Derailment
by Alexandria-likethecityinEgypt
Summary: Tracking mysterious "merchandise" across the Canadian Rockies, our team of four discovers a weapon capable of taking out the mighty Superman. But getting this Intel back to the League will require the team to battle their greatest adversary yet: Mother Nature, and discover that sometimes even heroes need to be rescued. Warnings: Language, Intense Peril. [I own nothing] Complete.
1. By Rail

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

The couple entered the Rail Canada railway station in Jasper, Alberta, Canada. There were two routes to choose from but the Intel that they received indicated the destination was Prince Rupert, British Columbia rather than Vancouver. The pretty brunette smiled and fluttered her eyelashes demurely at her companion. The redheaded man laughingly allowed her to lead him through the passenger train in search of their private cabin. They were a good-looking couple and several of the passengers watched them pass with interest or amusement.

The brunette leaned against the wall and glanced around but the corridor was empty. Her companion unlocked the door to their cabin and allowed her to enter ahead of him as he carried what appeared to be a bag containing ski equipment with them. He propped it against the door leading to what he assumed to be a tiny bathroom and shut the door behind them.

"Do you think anyone noticed," the brunette asked.

"If they did, they didn't recognize us," he replied.

She peeled her wig off and, seconds later, her long, blonde hair was cascading down her back. "Out of uniform and without our masks no one should have recognized us," she commented. "I'm still a little surprised that you came. I thought that the team was beneath you."

Roy sat on the couch that doubled as one of the beds with a sigh. "I'm here as a favor . . . And to keep an eye on you and that super clone."

Artemis bristled. "Were you always an asshole or do you take lessons?"

Roy grinned and laid across the small couch, placing his hand behind his head in a decadent parody of relaxation. "This is all natural, baby."

Artemis rolled her eyes and made a face. "Ew. I wouldn't go bragging on that if I were you."

She headed over to the extra door that looked like it was a closet. It wasn't. Opening it revealed the backside of connecting door that led to the cabin next to theirs. She had just raised her hand to knock when the door opened. A young boy, incongruously wearing a pair of sunglasses despite being inside a train compartment, smirked up at her.

"About time you two showed up," Robin commented. "Conner and I have been here for the past half hour waiting on you."

Artemis glanced behind her at Roy. "We would have been here sooner if macho man here would have stopped to ask directions."

"Hey! We made it, didn't we? With time to spare," Roy sat up.

Almost as if to remind him how close they had been cutting it, the train lurched and began to move out of the station. Artemis made a production of checking her watch.

"Five minutes," she remarked dryly. "We had all of five minutes to spare."

"Chillax, we're all good," he watched as the outskirts of Jasper slid by their window.

"'Chillax?' Who says that?" Artemis gaped at him, exasperated.

Robin moved into the tiny cabin and ignored the chair to prop himself onto the tiny table. Conner moved into the room behind him.

Artemis waved a hand at Superboy. "Why couldn't I have been paired up with Conner? Why did I have to get stuck with _him_?" She glared at Roy as he pointedly ignored her.

"Because Robin and I look more like brothers than anyone else on the team," Conner replied.

"You both have black hair," Artemis snorted. "Not much else in the way of resemblance."

Conner just shrugged. "Take it up with the Bat, then. I'm just following orders."

"What about that Martian chick," Roy chimed in. "She could have made herself to look like anyone."

"That may be true," Robin said, "but she's busy checking out airports and piloting the bioship for her part of the mission. Anyhow, I've been teaching Supey how to act like a big brother."

"Really?" Artemis looked skeptical.

"It'll work," Robin assured her.

To demonstrate, Conner reached over and ruffled Robin's hair. He then pulled the smaller boy off of the table, putting his arm around the smaller boy's neck and giving him a noogie on the top of his head.

"Cut it out, you jerk," Robin yelped, pushing his way out of the hold. "I'm telling Mom!"

"Mom's not here to save you, shrimp," Conner replied smugly.

"Not bad," Artemis admitted, smiling at their antics.

"Better than Roy," Robin laughed. "Seriously, dude, I think KF would have made a more romantic boyfriend than you. No one seeing you two would ever believe you're a couple."

Roy snorted. "And what would a _thirteen year old_ know about being romantic?"

"I've had the best of examples to learn from," he said confidently.

Conner glanced at him, confused. "Batman?"

Robin hesitated and then laughed. "No, not Batman," he told them. "My . . . Uh, my dad is a bit of a . . ." he faltered again.

" _A playboy_?" Artemis supplied. "Seriously? Who's your dad anyway? Bruce Wayne?"

Robin blanched. "No! He's nobody important, but he's good with the ladies."

Artemis looked at him funny. "Really? And what's your mom think about that?"

Robin's smirk fell away. "She . . . Uh, she's gone."

"She's dead?" Conner asked bluntly.

Robin turned his head and watch as the Canadian town finally disappeared and farmland now swept by the window. "Just . . . She's just gone." He was suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. He wasn't supposed to give away clues to his identity and admitting his mother was dead, he worried, might be too revealing.

"My dad left," Artemis volunteered in a whisper. She leaned forward to lay a hand over the younger boy's briefly. "It's just my mom and me now."

Robin glanced at her gratefully. He would take that excuse. He almost blew it. Time to change the subject. "We should go back over our mission. You know, make sure we have everything down the way Batman laid it out."

"We are to remain incognito, intercept the agent of the Light, and relieve him of whatever merchandise he is supposed to be transporting, then return to Happy Harbor," Conner stated succinctly.

"Except that we don't know who the agent is or how many of them will be required for the transport," Artemis added.

"Or what the merchandise is exactly," Robin put in. "Have you guys come up with any ideas for that?"

Roy spoke, "It would need to be something relatively small as this is a passenger train."

"It could be a person," Conner said. Everyone looked at him in silence. Uncomfortable with the sudden attention, he spoke, glaring at each of them defensively. "What? It's a viable option!"

Robin chimed in quickly. "No! No, you're _right_! It's a really good suggestion! I don't think any of us considered that the merchandise could be a person but it makes sense. Why else would they choose a civilian passenger train?"

Roy leaned his elbows on his knees, nodding. "Yeah, I can see that. I mean, why not choose a freight train to transport the merchandise unless one needed to be concerned with its comfort?"

"Why wouldn't they just fly it, then? Why go to the trouble of taking a four-day train trip across the Canadian Rockies and leave the merchandise exposed when they could have just hopped a plane and been there in a few hours," Artemis argued.

"Because security is much tighter at airports," Robin told her, "even in Canada. But security for trains is lighter, making it much easier to smuggle something or someone who might be recognized."

"Again," Roy spread his hands out as he played devil's advocate, "there are roads, too. If you can afford a few days, why not just take a car or a truck? Why a train?"

"Driving a car through a pass in the Canadian Rockies during winter? These guys are bad but I don't think they're crazy!" Robin countered.

"Actually, those areas are already being investigated by Kid Flash and Miss Martian," Conner announced. "They are checking out the airports nearby and flying to our destination city. If they cannot locate the Light's agents there, they will begin to search the highways via the bioship."

"The roads that _aren't_ closed during the winter months," Robin inserted.

"Two of them to check airports and highways, but it takes _four_ of us to check out a train over the course of four days," Artemis muttered in disgust.

"According to the intel that Batman received, the train was the most likely scenario. Batman wanted to make sure our bases were covered in the event that more than one agent is involved in the transfer," Robin told her.

Roy looked out the window and noticed that the city had fallen away and they were now traveling through farmland. "We are well on our way. I suggest we make our way to one of the dining cars and begin searching for the Light agents."

"Are we going to know each other," Conner asked.

Roy shook his head. "No. We don't want to attract too much attention. The team's disrupted enough of the Light's business that they might be suspicious of too large a gathering of teenagers, even while traveling in disguise."

"You two go ahead," Artemis suggested. "We'll follow in a few minutes. I want to restring my bow first."

Roy picked up the bag and began pulling out their weapons of choice. They had had to remove the strings in order to fit them into a bag more suited for ski equipment. He handed Artemis hers. It was more complicated as she used a compound bow but it gave her extra power and accuracy while Roy preferred his more traditional recurve bow.

"Catch you later, then," Robin hopped to his feet, punching Conner in the arm playfully. "Ow," he yelped, shaking his hand out. "Come on, Conner. We can eat in the lounge car."

Conner smirked. "Did you hurt your hand, squirt?"

"I'm telling Mom," Robin threatened yet again.

"Hey! You punched _me_ , remember?" Conner shoved Robin back into their cabin gently but the smaller boy still went through the doorway stumbling. Conner turned back to wave at his teammates. "We can meet back here after din- . . ."

A pillow flew through the doorway to slap him in the side of his face. He turned and growled as Robin's distinctive cackle was heard.

"You're not going to be laughing when I feed you this pillow, runt," he hollered, moving into the cabin with purpose and slamming the door behind him.

Artemis laughed. "I think they're getting the hang of this," She was surprisingly impressed with Conner's new-found acting ability. Despite their differences in appearance, the two certainly acted like normal siblings.

"Maybe we should have taken some of Rob's acting classes," Roy huffed. "It might have been easier to make people believe we are a couple."

"Could we change the subject," Artemis asked sarcastically. "You're going to ruin my appetite."

"Shut up and finish restringing your bow," Roy snarked.

Artemis sighed, exasperated. "This is going to be a _long_ four days."

* * *

 **REACTIONS? Don't forget to Review and Favorite!**

 **Okay, I've had to tweak this quite a bit to fit the story I wanted to tell. So . . . Rail Canada from Jasper to Prince Rupert only takes something like 2 days and has at least one stop. Most people sit in reclining seats for the trip, but I wanted cabins for our main characters . . . So there! ;P**

 **For my story _, this_ trip will take a full four days. The train will travel at a much higher elevation than it would in truth and it will make no stops during the course of this story. You can pretend the Rockies are wider and more rugged than they actually are, either by increasing the distance between the two cities or by slowing the train's speed - whatever works for you. Suspend your disbelief and enjoy.**

 ***FYI: _The bridge in the picture is not a railroad bridge at all. It is the_ New River Gorge Bridge _located near Fayetteville, West Virginia. It most closely resembles the bridge that will come into play later on in the story. By the way, it is one of the largest single-arch bridges in the world. Every year, people come from all over the world to participate in "Bridge Day"; a day in which people are allowed onto the bridge in order to base jump, rappel, and bungee jump from its great height_.***

 **In this story, no one (Not even KF) knows Robin's secret identity. This is not a part of the Lab Rat series. This was my original story idea for Black Friar and ARL15's YJ writing contest before I changed my mind and wrote "Jaborandi" for you instead.**


	2. Trouble in Paradise

**To my one guest reviewer: You will love this story, then, because Artemis will have a very big role to play.**

 **Warning: Language . . .**

* * *

"Did you discover anything while you were out?" Conner asked Robin when he reentered their cabin.

The younger boy had wanted to scope out the train alone after dinner. Conner hadn't liked the idea, stating that Batman had placed them all together in teams for a reason but Robin had argued that looking so young sometimes had its advantages. People were more willing to open up to a curious thirteen year old on his own sooner than they would if he were accompanied by an older teen bordering on the cusp of adulthood. Particularly if that older teen looked like he had just swallowed a sour lemon.

So, Robin went exploring for a little while and Conner came back to the cabin to work on his friendly smile.

"I discovered that I'm awesome," Robin told him cheerfully. "There are not just one but _two_ baggage cars at the rear of the train."

Conner raised his eyebrows. "They just volunteered that information?"

"Yeah," Robin grinned as he plopped down on the small couch in their cabin with a bounce. "It's no biggie, though. Not like it's a national secret or something. Everyone knows it."

"Not everyone. We didn't think of it before. That could be where the merchandise is being kept."

Robin sighed. "I wanted to go check it out but figured I better come tell you guys about it first.

"You did good!" Conner ruffled the younger boy's hair again.

"Hey!" he shoved Conner's hand away. "I should never have shown you how to do that."

"Why did you if it bothers you so much?" Superboy pulled back, disappointed. Teasing his teammate at dinner had been . . . enjoyable.

Robin smirked and bumped his shoulder. "It doesn't," he said. "Not really. Just so long as we're not in the middle of facing down a baddie, I don't mind."

Actually, it had been fun for him, too. Usually only Wally would joke around with him like that. But joking with Conner on this trip felt different. Not so much like it was between best friends, like with him and Wally, but more like what Robin thought it would be with an older brother. Similar, he thought, to his relationship with Roy, Green Arrow's partner. But Roy had been distant a lot lately to both him and Wally as he struggled to prove himself League-worthy as Red Arrow.

Conner seemed to fall into the role of older brother quite naturally, sliding in surprisingly easily to fill the gap left by Roy during his quest for League membership. And for someone who had only ever been an only child, Dick decided one could never have too many brothers.

 _Too bad it is only an act_.

"We should tell the others," Conner said.

"Yeah," Robin sat up. "Where are Roy and Artie anyway? I thought sure you'd be with them when I got back."

"I don't know," Conner shrugged. "They weren't in their cabin when I got here. You don't think that maybe they ran into the Light's agents and are in trouble, do you?"

Robin shook his head. "Nah, they can handle themselves. I doubt they would have tried taking them on without alerting us first, even if they had."

"Wait," Conner held up a hand. "I can hear them now."

Robin perked up. "How do you know it's them?"

Conner rolled his eyes. "Because they're arguing."

* * *

"You are the _worst_ date ever," Artemis said as Roy slammed the door behind them. "A gentlemen holds the chair for the lady and waits until she sits down first. He doesn't just plop himself down at the table before her."

"I just figured you for one of those women's libbers who prefer to open their own doors and pull out their own chairs," Roy grumbled. He threw himself down across the couch and tucked his hands behind his head.

"See? This is what I mean," she waved at hand at his lazy pose. "You took up the entire couch."

"I thought you were too angry to want to sit beside me," Roy reminded her. "And you know, there's a chair right there," he said, waving a hand at the piece of furniture. "It's not like you have to sit on the floor."

A knock on the connecting door interrupted whatever Artemis had been prepared to say. She huffed at him and opened their side.

"Hey! What's going on?" Robin asked. "Did you guys spot our agents yet?"

"Ask _him_ ," Artemis growled and headed into the tiny bathroom in order to take off her wig. "I don't even know why I'm here. One archer is all this team needs."

Robin frowned. "You two are supposed to be here undercover as a couple," he reminded them yet again.

"He doesn't need me for that," Artemis snorted from behind the door. "Roy's already in love with _himself_!"

"Uh oh, trouble in paradise?" Robin swung his gaze back to Roy. "What did you do _this_ time?"

Roy looked offended. "What makes you think any of this is _my_ fault?"

Robin just looked at him.

Roy sighed and threw up his arms. "Princess over there thinks I'm a bad date," he snarked. "All because I didn't hold her chair out for her."

"Or wait for me to order or walk beside me instead of ahead of me. He didn't even hold the door open as we entered the dining car," Artemis' voice floated in from the bathroom. "I might have been a stranger except for the fact that we sat at the same table."

"Did you at least hold her hand?" Robin asked.

"Are you kidding? She might have bitten it off," Roy laughed sarcastically.

" _Ew, no_!" Artemis yelped. "I would have had to go wash my hands again before I could eat my dinner!"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Now tell me . . . Would _you_ have wanted to hold that hand?"

Conner frowned. "If you two are supposed to be a couple, shouldn't you be pretending that you like one another?"

Roy laughed. "A lot of couples bicker and fight."

Robin was shaking his head. "The mission is too important for you two to be screwing around like this. Couples who fight in public are too noticeable. We want to keep a low profile for as long as possible."

Roy sat up and frowned. "You aren't going to start giving me advice how to be romantic again, are you?"

Brown wig gone, Artemis reentered the room, brushing out her long blonde hair. "Why not? You certainly need it!"

"The kid's never even gotten his first kiss yet and he presumes to give me advice," Roy laughs. "No offense, Rob."

A blush ran up Robin's face. "Like I would tell you if I had," he grumbled.

Roy threw him an amused look. "Not the type to kiss and tell, eh?"

Ignoring this, Robin propped himself on the table again. "Is it so hard to just _act_ like you like each other while you're in public? No one said you have to get along behind closed doors."

"If _he_ wouldn't make it so _difficult_ ," Artemis complained.

"What can I say? You're not my type," Roy answered her.

"Do you even _have_ a type?" She replied sarcastically. "Maybe we should have brought Wolf along."

Roy straightened abruptly. "Why you . . ."

" _Enough_!" Robin clamped his hands over his ears. "We are here on a mission. If you can't like each other - fine, but can you two at least remain professional until it's complete?"

The two glared at each other for another moment before looking away. "Yes," Artemis said at the same time that Roy grunted, "Sure."

Conner sat in the chair. "Are you going to tell them about the baggage cars?"

"What baggage cars?" Roy asked, curious.

Artemis raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Hello? Most passenger trains have baggage cars. Or didn't you know that?"

Roy growled but kept his mouth shut. It was obvious, though, by the way he was clenching his hands that he wanted to strangle his blonde teammate.

"Rob discovered that the train has two baggage cars at the end of it," Conner volunteered; ignoring the bickering. "It would be a good place for the agents to store their merchandise. We should go check it out."

"I thought we decided that the merchandise was a person?" Artemis asked.

"He or she still could be," Robin shrugged. "But it's still possible that it could be a weapon large enough to require storage in the baggage car. These rooms are tiny."

"If it were something truly important, I wouldn't want it out of my sight for long," Roy commented. "I'm inclined to believe that whatever it is, the agents have it on them."

"You mean literally?" Conner asked.

"Either on their person or locked in their room. It may be guarded," Roy thought aloud. "Did Bats' information specify how many agents there could be?"

"Not a number, no. I am guessing that there are at least two, but for all we know, it could be the entire train: passengers _and_ crew," Robin admitted.

"Now, that's a disturbing thought," Artemis mumbled.

"Better get 'turbed quick," Robin quipped. "However many there are, we will have to handle them."

"So, what about the baggage cars?" Conner asked again. "Are we going to check them out now?"

Roy glanced out the window. The sun was slowly creeping toward the tops of the Rocky Mountains. It would get dark quickly. "We should wait until full dark."

"And later in the evening," Artemis chimed in. "It would be safer if there were fewer people awake when we break in."

"Perhaps we should split up," Roy suggested. "Two of us take one baggage car while the other two take the second."

Robin shook his head. "I don't want to feel rushed. We might overlook something. I think all of us should take the first baggage car and search it thoroughly. We can search the second car tomorrow night."

Artemis grimaced. "I'm all for splitting up. The faster we get this done, the faster we go home."

Conner looked up at her from where he was resting his elbows on his knees. "Except that we won't be going home any faster for finding the merchandise."

"What do you mean by that?" Roy frowned. "Why would we continue to stay after we complete the mission?"

"Maybe because we're in the middle of the Rocky Mountains with no other means of transportation except for our feet," Robin chimed in.

"So what? Just call in back up," Roy told him.

"We're supposed to meet M'gann in Prince Rupert at the end of four days. Communications are going to be iffy until then at best. The mountains will block a good portion of our transmissions what with the numerous tunnels and steep valleys," Robin replied. "Then again, we're also a moving target even should we get ahold of the Bioship. It could take M'gann a while to locate us."

"But once we find and confiscate the merchandise, the jig will be up," Artemis said. "The agents will know we are here. We would need to capture and hold them the rest of the way back."

"Or we could locate the merchandise and either replace it, making it look like it's still there and undisturbed or just leave it until we are closer to our destination," Conner offered. "The closer we are, the more likely we can keep the Light agents contained until pickup."

"We need also to keep in mind that we are on a passenger train," Robin warned. "The civilians' safety must be a priority. That's hard to do if our fight takes us crashing through the train."

"So, the closer we are to civilization, the better," Artemis concluded for him.

She looked out of the window now. Farmland had long since given way to tall pines and there was a definite slope as the train began to climb in elevation.

"In the meantime," Robin told them, "we will continue to search through the other passengers as well in order to discover the agents. It is still a strong possibility that our merchandise is a person or an item small enough to be kept either on his or her person or else in their cabin."

"So, you two need to learn how to act like you get along," Conner pointed out.

Roy sighed and looked out the window at the passing scenery. Artemis echoed him as she finally sat on the opposite end of the couch and crossed her arms.

"This is going to be a long trip," Robin muttered, watching as the two archers continued to purposely ignore one another.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Because I love the dynamics going on between Artemis and Roy . . . Their bickering cracks me up! Plus, I think it is deliciously ironic since Roy will eventually end up with her sister, Jade/Cheshire, sometime in the unforeseeable future.**

 **DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! And FAVE is you like it! (Hint) ;D**


	3. Dodging the Bullet

**No Warnings: I think . . .**

* * *

"Oh God, it is freaking freezing out there!" Artemis huffed as she climbed back through the window into her cabin. The wind was whipping her ponytail into a frenzy, and it would likely take her the rest of the night to get all of the tangles out of it.

"Ow," Roy groused as he slid in after her. "Watch it!" Her hair stung as it whipped in his face.

They both stumbled out of the way so that Robin and Conner could join them.

"Brr, it is freezing in here, too," she complained.

"What do you expect when we had to leave the window open behind us?" Roy asked while leaning his bow against one corner of the room.

Conner closed the window behind them. It has begun snowing a few hours ago and the flurries swirled and danced beyond the glass.

"Good thing we brought our winterized uniforms, then, isn't it?" Robin pushed back his fur-lined hood. "The temperature dropped at least thirty degrees from what it was yesterday morning in Jasper."

These weren't the same uniforms they would use for extreme temperatures found in the artic. No heavy coats or snow boots and the like, but then again, they weren't planning on hiking the wilderness or across the frozen tundra. These were meant to keep their wearers protected from normal winter weather, albeit for extended lengths of time. Long sleeves, water resistant or proofed boots and gloves, all of it made from heavier, more insulated material. They had the option of stealth mode which were white and grays, but all in all, they bore the same colors as the teams' regular uniforms.

While Robin's uniform had some extra insulation, it was probably not to the extent of his teammates. Anything added to Robin's costume tended to weigh him down and create a lot of extra drag when he attempted to use his acrobatics. As such, he tended to get the minimum in everything . . . in insulation, in armor, in the weight of the material used. He had to have something though because Batman wouldn't allow him out unless his uniform contained what he deemed to be necessary for the job he had to do, no matter how much Robin might complain about it.

He had to admit, however, the extra insulation was feeling pretty good tonight. His cheeks still stung from the biting wind. The hood hadn't been much help coming back from the baggage car with the wind blowing in their faces. He ran a hand over his hair. It was messier than usual and he patted the pieces that were sticking up back down.

"Well, that was a complete waste of time," Roy complained. "Is Batman sure of his Intel because I haven't recognized anyone as an agent of the Light nor did we find anything close to resembling a weapon."

"Who said it had to be a weapon? Superboy's suggestion that it was a person sounded perfectly reasonable to me," Artemis called from the bathroom as she began brushing her hair.

"Do you have to contradict everything I say?" Roy groused.

Robin held up his hands, "Children, children . . . We won't accomplish anything if we don't stop fighting amongst ourselves."

The glares sent his way sent Robin hurrying back into the other compartment.

"Come on, Conner," he huffed good-naturedly. "I can tell when we're not wanted."

Conner followed Robin in, turning only to wish the other two good night. Artemis poked her head out of the bathroom.

"What did he say?" She blinked owlishly.

Roy flipped the small sofa to a single bed and collapsed on top of it. "He said, good night."

Her eyes widened even more. "What are you doing?"

Roy cracked open an eye and frowned at her. "I'm retiring for the night, princess. What does it look like I'm doing?"

" _In here_?" She screeched.

Roy sat up, draping an arm across one of his legs. "This is my room. Where else am I supposed to sleep?"

Artemis pointed at the connecting door. " _In there_ ," she said. " _With them_!"

"There are only two beds per cabin, Artie," Roy glared at her. "I am _not_ sleeping on the floor!"

Artemis stamped her foot in frustration. "Fine! I'll go sleep in the dining car," she declared. She had already changed back into her civvies, pausing only to tuck her uniform into the duffle they had carried on. She shoved the brown wig on her head as she stormed out of the cabin.

She had actually made it as far as the corridor when Roy poked his head out and called her back. She came through the door reluctantly and he closed it behind her.

"You can't sleep in the dining car," Roy groused, "because Robin is right. We can't take a chance that we will blow this mission by drawing attention to ourselves with all the drama."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "So, what are you suggesting?"

He heaved a sigh that ruffled her hair. "If it really means that much to you, I'll go sleep with the guys in their cabin. _But_ we are going to have to learn to at least act like we do more than tolerate each other while in public. No more of this _'ew, don't touch me_ ' attitude!"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Agreed."

Roy yanked a pillow off of the bottom bunk. " _This_ goes with me! This is _my_ pillow! You will _not_ claim it, too!"

Artemis smirked, thinking: _So, who was being the drama queen now_?

He knocked on the connecting door. "Women," Roy muttered in disgust.

Artemis managed her first smile. "You may not believe this but I'm the more mellow and accommodating sister in my family."

Roy gaped at her before entering Robin and Conner's compartment. "You mean that somewhere in this world is another female like _you_? God help us all . . ." He shuddered theatrically before slamming the door shut behind him.

Artemis stared at the closed door.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," she retorted softly to the empty cabin. She and Jade were about as far apart as two sisters could get and still share the same biological parents.

* * *

Artemis and Roy made their way through the corridors of several cars toward the dining car once more, this time for breakfast. Their attempts to hold hands began with a struggle for dominance and ended with Roy walking slightly behind her and only touching her on her back whenever they met other travelers.

"Would you quit shuddering like that whenever I touch you," he hissed in her ear with his best flirty smile in place.

Artemis whirled on him, poking his chest with her finger. "So quit _touching_ me and it won't . . ."

Her eyes slid past his face to whomever was coming up from behind them and widened in panic. She grabbed his shirt, leaned back against the wall, and jerked him into her. Roy was still in shock when Artemis suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Mmph," he grunted in surprise.

Thankfully, Roy figured it out quickly that she must have recognized someone. He obligingly wrapped his arms around her waist and just coasted along with it, content to follow her lead.

"Ow!" Artemis hissed against his lips. "Not so hard!"

Roy would have rolled his eyes if he hadn't been turning her a bit so that he could get a glimpse at who was coming up on them. His brows slanted into a frown as he spied Cheshire and Sportsmaster in civilian clothes. The Light agents angled so that they could slide past the kissing couple in the tight confines of the corridor. The two were escorting another man in between them, some ordinary thirty-something guy with a tweed jacket and glasses.

When Cheshire glanced in their direction, Roy turned his face away and intensified the kiss.

"Mmph!" Artemis grasped at his head. It looked to the casual observer as if she was in the throes of passion, but in truth, Artemis was just trying to gain some breathing room.

Cheshire rolled her eyes in their direction with more than a hint of disgust.

"Get a room," she snarked as she shoved by the couple.

Sportsmaster laughed as he squeezed by. "Yeah, you go for it, buddy!" He slapped Roy on the shoulder encouragingly.

Overhearing her father's remark, Artemis' eyes snapped open and she started to pull away in her shock but Roy grabbed her upper arms and pushed her back against the wall. Pretending to nibble on her neck, he snarled in her ear. "Easy, princess! Save it for later, and try not to blow our cover!"

Artemis choked and sputtered, blushing furiously but settled into her 'role' until her father and sister and the man they were escorting exited this car for the next one. She shoved Roy away a couple of seconds later, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

Roy stared after the agents in bemusement. "I don't think they recognized us."

"Ya think?"

Artemis _knew_ her family didn't recognize her, not while she had been wearing the brown wig and Roy had been plastered all over her face. Had they actually done so, Roy would even now be skewered to the wall, if not by her father, then definitely by her sister. Roy had no idea but they had just dodged a bullet. She prayed that when the team finally confronted them that they never put two and two together and realize that she had been part of _**that**_ ' _couple_ '.

Just the thought of _that_ discovery made her groan aloud.

"Seriously, princess, I haven't had any complaints yet." Roy rolled his eyes at her what he perceived as her drama.

She managed to ignore that remark despite the three-mile wide opportunity for glorious snark at his expense. Artemis looked regretfully in the direction of the dining car. She had been hungry but didn't want to press her luck. She wasn't sure her disguise was good enough to fool her family.

"Should we still go in?" she gestured in the direction of the dining car.

"No, definitely not," Roy said a little regretfully.

Artemis nearly sagged in her relief. "So we won't blow our cover by not going in?"

"Hey, Sportsmaster is the one that suggested we 'go for it'," Roy smirked, amused.

"Oh God," she groaned again and covered her eyes briefly with one hand.

Roy started to move back in the direction of their car when Artemis caught his arm.

"Hey," she asked. "About that kiss . . . Do you think we could not say anything to the others about it?"

Roy looked at her incredulously. "Sportsmaster and Cheshire are our Light agents and _that's_ what you're worried about?"

"Oh jeez, just forget it," she growled at him and stalked off in the direction of their cabin.

"Don't worry, princess," Roy laughed as he caught up to her. "I have a reputation to uphold."

A quick glance assured her that no one was around. Artemis spun around and punched him in the gut. "And quit calling me princess," she snarked.

" _OOF_!" The punch, unexpected, knocked the wind out of him. With some effort he straightened. "Damn, you pack one helluva punch," he complimented her with a grin once he could breathe again.

When she glared at him over her shoulder, Roy just shrugged. "I guess I won't be teasing Wally anymore when he's whining about you hitting him."

Her face softened with just a hint of pride. She _did_ pack a mean punch _!_

"It's obvious now that you are not a typical girl . . ." Roy remarked casually as he passed her by.

Artemis gasped. "What? What's _that_ supposed to mean: I'm not a _typical_ girl?"

Roy just laughed at her consternation and walked faster. Artemis bared her teeth, growling at his back as she chased after him.

* * *

"So, it looks as though you were right, Supey," Robin grinned. "The 'merchandise' _is_ a person. Did either of you recognize him?"

Conner's normal scowl eased into a half-smile under his teammate's praise.

"No," said Roy. He rubbed the back of his neck suddenly and ducked his head. He wasn't about to admit that he had been too distracted to really get a good look at the little man.

"Never saw him . . . Um, before," Artemis muttered as she busied herself restringing her bow for the third time for something to do with her hands. Her only thought had been to hide from her father and sister, not in checking out their companion.

She tugged a small crossbow out of the duffle containing her equipment and set it beside her. Keeping busy would better hide her embarrassment.

"Okay, then," Robin stood up. "I guess it's up to Conner and me."

"Bring us back something, would you," Roy asked them when his stomach rumbled loudly.

"You should just place an order to the room," Conner suggested helpfully. "It would fit your cover."

Artemis sputtered but the two had already walked out of the door.

Roy was already snatching up the phone. "I'm getting eggs and an extra side of bacon. Do you want some?"

"Way too much cholesterol," she shook her head as she began cleaning her crossbow. "Get me some yogurt and a bowl of granola."

"Afraid of getting fat?" Roy teased.

"Hey, my uniform shows off my midriff," she grumbled. "I could hardly be considered intimidating if I go around sporting a muffin-top, would I?"

"Point taken," he said as he dialed out.

* * *

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	4. Mt Baldy

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Robin let go of his nose. "I was trying to equalize the pressure in my head with the higher elevation. Kind of like you do when you dive deep underwater, just in reverse."

Conner stared at him. "I don't do that."

"That's because _you_ don't have to," Robin laughed. "But some of us normal folks don't like the feeling we get when we shift elevations quickly."

"You jump off of buildings! How is that not the same?" Conner frowned.

Rob shrugged. "I haven't jumped off of any 12,000 foot buildings lately."

Conner looked out the window at the passing peaks. "We're not that high up."

Robin gave Conner a playful shove. The older boy didn't move. "You are like shoving a brick wall," he complained. "You don't move at all."

Conner smirked. "Brick walls move for me."

Facepalming, Robin laughed. "Well, they don't for me, and even if we aren't literally at 12,000 feet, we are still plenty high up."

"That's a lot of snow," Conner grunted as way of agreement.

"Yeah, how cool is that?" He gazed out at the gorgeous winter scenery. "According to the engineer, the snow came in early this year. They are predicting record snowfalls throughout this winter."

"Who is? The engineer?" Superboy snorted. "How would he know?"

"Meteorologists told him," Robin clarified. "Are you doing the 'taking everything literally' thing on purpose?"

Conner opened the door to the dining car, holding it open for the smaller boy. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said innocently.

"Yeah, sure," Rob grinned. He started looking through the car for Sportsmaster and Cheshire and their mysterious companion immediately.

Conner laid his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Back of compartment. On the right."

"Yep, that's them all right." Robin shoved his sunglasses higher on his nose as Conner pulled down his baseball cap and hunched his shoulders.

They took a seat at a table in the middle and placed their orders.

"Can you hear what they're talking about over the other diners' conversations?"

Conner frowned as he concentrated. "I'm getting snatches. That bald guy in between us keeps laughing too loud."

"What are you getting?"

"Sportsmaster just called him Dr. Overton," Conner said. "I couldn't hear the question, though," He huffed in frustration, ". . . or the answer. We should have sat closer."

"All the tables were taken that were closer," Robin told him. "Hang on. I have an idea."

Conner blinked up at him as Robin leapt to his feet. "What are you going to do?"

"Just follow my lead," he told the older boy. "Remember all that stuff I told you about how brothers are supposed to act?"

"I thought you got that from television," Conner said, watching him suspiciously.

"But isn't a lot of that based off of real life?" Robin grinned.

"Like _I'm_ supposed to know?" Conner asked, rolling his eyes.

In truth, Robin was an only child as well. His home life was atypical no matter which way you chose to look at it. His only clues to how the average set of siblings behaved came from television.

"Just go with it," Robin told him exasperated. He grabbed Conner's hat and held it up.

"Hey! Give that back, shrimp!" Conner yelped and jumped up to snatch his cap back.

"No way! Wait until Dad hears about this," Robin laughed, running backwards in order to keep Conner in his sights. When the older boy tried again to grab his cap, Robin turned around to dart away and plowed into the side of the bald guy, making him spill his coffee all over his clothes.

Gasping, he leapt up, knocking over his chair in the process. He was a huge man and towered over the two boys.

"Watch what you're doing, you little brat!" He grabbed Robin's wrist and snatched the cap from him, tossing it back to Conner. "Where are your parents?"

"Our mom's back in Jasper, and our dad's in Prince Rupert," Conner gave the man the story that he and Robin were traveling under. Conner's eyes narrowed as he noticed the bald guy still held onto Robin's wrist. "You need to let go of my little brother now."

"Not until he apologizes," the man shook the boy's arm. "Who's going to pay for my dry cleaning?"

Robin winced. " _Ow_! Our dad will when we get to Prince Rupert," he snapped. "Let _go_ of me!"

Conner's face darkened and he took a step forward. "It was an accident," he said angrily. "He didn't mean to mess up your precious clothes; now let him go. You're hurting him!"

"Someone needs to teach you kids a lesson in respecting your elders," Baldy growled.

* * *

This was getting out of hand. Robin hadn't expected the guy to go all crazy on him. He was drawing too much attention to them and Conner was starting to lose his temper. The bald guy tightened his grip rather than loosening it. Robin was suddenly a little worried that Conner might really go off on the guy if he suspected the man was truly hurting him.

 _This_ was why Batman always encouraged Robin's use of acrobatics and long-range style of fighting, so that the bad guys couldn't get a hold of him like this. While Robin was stronger than the average boy his own age, and even those a few years older, he could still be hurt in a physical confrontation with an adult.

"I'm sorry, alright? It was an accident," Robin cried out, sounding scared. He glanced around for one of the railroad's employees.

A hand on the man's shoulder turned Baldy's attention away from the boys and onto the young woman standing behind him.

"You heard him. The kid apologized. Now let him go," she said, her voice brooking no argument.

"Maybe you should mind your own damned business, lady," The bald man snapped at her, jerking out from under her touch.

The sudden movement surprised a gasp from Robin. The guy didn't know his own strength. Robin wouldn't be surprised if he came away from this with a bruise shaped like the guy's hand. It made Robin mad. What if he really were just some little kid and not the Boy Wonder in disguise?

"That's no way to talk to a lady," came a far too familiar voice.

Conner was looking a little shocked, staring at the couple behind their aggressor. Robin twisted about to see the drama unfolding behind him and felt his mouth drop open. Cheshire and Sportsmaster were glaring at the bald guy, having gotten up from their table to intervene.

 _Shoot_! _Way to keep a low profile, Dumb Wonder_. . . Only his sunglasses was preventing the couple from getting a good view of his face.

Although Bruce tried to keep Dick out of the limelight as much as possible, the media often went rabid over the rare photographs someone would somehow manage to get of the boy, especially after his well-publicized adoption by the celebrity billionaire earlier in the year. And while Canadians might not keep up with Bruce Wayne's antics, Sportsmaster and Cheshire, as Americans, would definitely know who he was. What _Robin_ didn't know was if the criminal pair would recognize _Richard Grayson-Wayne_ if he were exposed.

"What's it to you," Baldy growled. "Do you know these kids?"

Robin turned his face away.

"Never met 'em before but you're causing a scene and disrupting the peace of my meal," Sportsmaster said calmly.

"Let the kid go or you're going to regret it," Cheshire warned him.

Robin shot Superboy a shocked look. Cheshire and Sportsmaster were saving _them_? This was too surreal . . .

Finally the conductor had entered the dining car and quickly moved to intervene.

"Please, sir," he said. "You are laying hands on a minor that is traveling in the care of the railroad. I insist that you release him immediately or I will be forced to confine you to your quarters until we reach the next station where charges will be filed."

That seemed to get Baldy's attention. He dropped Robin's arm like a hot potato. Robin clasp his arm to his chest dramatically but it wasn't all pretend. That guy's grip had actually kind of hurt. He wanted to play it up for sympathy from the conductor but feared doing so might make Conner blow a gasket and then their cover if he didn't realize that Robin was only acting.

Conner's hand landed on Robin's shoulder and he pulled the smaller boy behind him, protectively.

"Conner, chill out," Rob whispered. "I'm okay."

Some of the tension eased out of the older boy.

"Sure, take up for that ill-mannered little brat and not for the adult. I'm the victim here! I paid my way and this is how I'm treated?" The bald man groused. "This is what's wrong with the world today!"

The conductor led the arguing man away. "We will replace your breakfast for you and send it to your compartment. No one will disrupt your meal there," he told him.

Sportsmaster snorted and returned to his table without looking back. Cheshire stepped over to Conner and tried to look over his shoulder at Robin.

"Is he alright," she asked. "I'll ask the steward to bring over some ice for his arm."

Conner was glaring at her so Robin elbowed him in the back. As usual, the clone didn't move an inch but at least his expression softened. "Yeah, sure," he muttered. "Thanks for stepping in there. You didn't have to. That was nice . . . of . . . you." His words faded into an awkward silence.

Cheshire smirked. "I don't know about _that_ ," she remarked with a laugh, "but I'd have done the same as you had that guy been manhandling my little sister like that. You did good, kid."

She peeked around at Robin. "You're lucky to have a brother like him." Her expression looked a little sad for a moment. "Some kids aren't so lucky to have an older sibling around to look out for them like that."

Robin kept his gaze on the floor but nodded in acknowledgement. Better if she thought he was embarrassed or shy. They were silent as Cheshire went over to talk to one of the waiters before making her way back to her table and the two men she was traveling with.

Conner and Robin moved back over to their table and sat down, much more subdued.

"Was that what you'd _intended_ to have happen," Conner asked quietly.

A blush rode high on Robin's cheeks. "Yes and no," he laughed half-heartedly. "I meant for him to have to leave the dining car but I didn't think he was going to overreact like that. Nor did I think we'd gain that much attention."

Robin let out a shaky breath. "We almost blew it," he said. " _ **I**_ almost blew it. Sorry, Conner."

Conner noticed that Robin was still cradling his arm. He frowned. "Did that guy really hurt you? Let me see," he said and reached across the table.

Robin leaned back, avoiding the contact. "No, it's okay," he muttered. "Gotta keep up the act, you know."

Conner grunted but didn't look happy about it.

A waiter appeared at their side with a bag of ice wrapped in a dishcloth. "This might help," the man said, offering the bundle to Robin.

The boy took it and thanked him. He laid it over his arm gingerly. "Let's just eat breakfast while you listen in on their conversation, okay," he said when the waiter left.

Conner hesitated for a second and then nodded in agreement. "Right."

* * *

"Kids," Sportsmaster grumbled, taking a bite of his steak. "I don't know why you felt the need to get involved."

Cheshire slid into her seat across from him. "I _like_ kids," she shrugged. "And that guy was being an asshole."

Her father snorted derisively. "That _guy_ had a point. That kid had it coming to him."

Jade narrowed her eyes at her father. He _would_ think that. Lawrence Crock often confused abuse for discipline when dealing with his own children.

"Then why'd you step in," she asked snidely. "I could have handled him myself."

"And likely blown our cover," he shook his fork at her. "We're not supposed to draw attention to ourselves, remember? At least not until we reach Prince Rupert where we're supposed to be picked up."

"Since when did you care whether or not you garnered a little attention?" She picked at her eggs. They had long since gone cold.

"Since we don't know if the League has any information on our merchandise. If they're here . . ."

"If they _are_ here," Jade interrupted, "then it's likely that they've already recognized you and are just biding their time before stepping in to arrest us both."

Their companion, quiet until now, jerked to attention.

"You don't think that's the case, do you?" He asked nervously. "I was told that you two would protect me and the prototype until we got to our destination."

"Stop your worrying," Sportsmaster growled. "I haven't failed to complete a mission objective yet."

"When do I find out where we're going," Overton asked next. "I think I've been patient enough."

"You'll know when I want you to know," Crock snapped irritably, making the scientist jump slightly. "In the meantime, sit still and quit your complaining."

"I'm not one of those kids," Overton grumbled. "Your organization would be worse off without me and my research. I demand a little respect."

"No problem," Sportsmaster said as he wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I have little respect for you as it is."

Cheshire smirked. "Such as charmer. I can never help but wonder what it was that Mom ever saw in you."

Her father leaned back in his seat and gave her a look before glancing out the window. "I hate trains," was all he said in reply. "They take too damn long."

"Why didn't we take a plane? We'd have been there already," Overton asked.

"Too much security in the airports. They have facial recognition programs in place," Sportsmaster said. "They'd have made me or Cheshire in three minutes flat. If we weren't picked up before we boarded, they would have met us wherever we landed."

"Then why not a private car?"

Cheshire scooted her plate away, snorting derisively. "In these mountains . . . in winter? That's just asking for trouble."

"It won't be winter for another month," Overton countered.

Cheshire pointed out the window to the snow-laden scenery. There were several inches already accumulated across the landscape. "Does that not look like winter to you? Keep in mind that we haven't even stopped climbing yet. No, the train was the safest way to go."

Crock finished his coffee. "I'm for heading back to the compartment. We've had enough notoriety for today."

Overton groaned but tossed down his napkin. "I suppose I can always work on my notes. I want to double-check to see if the schematics are safe. I don't like just leaving them in the compartment. They're too valuable."

"They'd be safer if you'd learn to quit running your mouth in public," Sportsmaster stood up as Overton slipped out of his chair.

"You're not going to be doing more push-ups and sit-ups, are you? I can't tell you how distracting that is," the smaller man complained.

Cheshire smiled at her father's annoyance. He gave the little man a push in the right direction.

"Get moving," he grumbled.

* * *

"What do you make of that," Conner asked after relaying the last of the conversation after the group of three passed them by. "Should we follow them?"

Robin shook his head. "No, it's okay. I planted a tracker on the little guy as they passed. We'll know where they are located now and can search their compartment for those schematics and the prototype the next time they leave."

"We should head back ourselves and tell the others," Conner decided. "Are you finished?"

Robin looked at his plate. It was still half full. He had lost his appetite after the altercation. His plan had nearly blown up in his face. Embarrassed over that fiasco, Robin looked forward to the opportunity to search the trio's compartment for whatever the prototype was and its schematics to make up for his idiot rookie blunder.

Batman was going to kill him when he heard of it . . . _If_ he heard of it. Robin glanced at Conner hopefully. He wondered if the older boy would balk at keeping his screw-up under wraps. He sighed, knowing that it would be Robin himself telling Batman about it in the end.

Robin laid aside the pack of ice. Most of it was melted anyway. "Yeah," he said. "Ready to go whenever you are."

* * *

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	5. Eavesdropping

**In response to a guest comment:**

 **I write for my own amusement; I always have, but until recently, I didn't share. I research and work hard to come up with interesting stories with lots of facts and surprising plot twists because I take pride in my writing. The ONLY reason I post my stories on here is for reviews and faves. Without them, I would stop sharing my stories. Why would I continue, after all?**

 **Every author likes to be validated. Because this site is free, the only validation we get is through reviews and faves. If my asking for readers' reactions sounds like I am begging for comments, then I suppose in a way it is. But since the readers get my stories for free, and I don't get a paycheck in return for my work, I'd like to think of it more as the readers showing their appreciation for what I am willing to do for them. I could just as easily save this to my external hard drive and continue to entertain myself, but I choose a path that is mutually beneficial for all of us.**

 **I'm fairly certain that every other author on here would agree with me on that.**

* * *

 **Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

"So, the merchandise Sportsmaster and Cheshire are transporting is this scientist and some kind of prototype weapon and the schematics to its construction," Artemis reiterated.

"No one said it had to be a weapon," Conner pointed out. When all eyes turned in his direction, he shrugged. "He only called it a 'prototype'," he said reasonably. "He never indicated what it was to be used for."

"What else could it be?" Roy stood up and began pacing in the too tiny room.

Artemis rolled her eyes, and pulled her feet up out of the way so the big lug wouldn't step on them. They were all in their costumes in case Robin needed backup. They all agreed that now wouldn't be the optimal time to confront the Light agents, but short of showing up as civilians, they chose to remain at the ready until the little bird returned.

"When is Robin supposed to be back?" Conner glanced out at the snow blowing past the window. It had been snowing since last night.

The sun would be going down behind the mountain peaks within the next hour. It was nearing the dinner hour, and when Robin's tracer had indicated the scientist was on the move again, the Boy Wonder wanted to set the bug in place while everyone was out. He'd been gone for a half an hour already.

"How long can it possibly take to bug a room?" Conner grumbled.

"Depends on if someone came back before he was finished," Roy said.

"Wouldn't that be a bad thing?" Conner stood up, suddenly concerned. "What if they caught him?"

"Nah," Roy waved his concern away. "He was brought up by the Bat. If anything, he would hide until they left again."

"We can't even tell if that happened." Artemis looked around the room. "There aren't many places to hide in one of these tiny cabins."

"Rob's smaller than any of us and he can contort to fit in the weirdest places," Roy assured her. "He'd call us if he were in trouble."

Artemis frowned at him. "You know, that's pretty blasé even for you. I thought you said Robin is your friend."

"He is," Roy growled. "But I know him better than the both of you, and I trust him to do his job without getting caught. The Bat wouldn't have let him out of the Cave if the Boy Wonder wasn't up to the task."

"Admirable of you," Artemis snarked, "but unexpected things can happen."

"Not if you know what you're doing and are prepared," Roy snapped back.

"You are not a damned Boy Scout, Harper," Artemis stood up now. "And we're not here to earn a merit badge!"

"You want to go check on him, blondie? Go ahead, but he won't appreciate it. All you will likely end up doing is clueing our enemies in to his presence," Roy accused. "But then again, maybe that's the idea?"

Conner made a fist and growled as Artemis moved up into his face. She poked him in the chest. "Don't you dare bring that up now! Neither of us is a mole! And in case you didn't know it, showing a little concern for the welfare of a teammate is an admirable thing. Something a lone arrow like _you_ wouldn't understand!"

A rush of winter wind and snow swirled around the cabin, catching the trio off guard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm gone for a few minutes and you guys are at each other's throats," Robin said as he reached in for a better grip; his cape flapping wildly behind him. "We're supposed to be a team, remember?"

"Robin!" Artemis grinned in relief as the Boy Wonder pulled himself through the window head-first.

Conner, more expedient, simply grabbed the younger boy and dragged him the rest of the way into the cabin. Snow fell from his hair and shoulders.

Robin laughed, slapping the older boy on the shoulder. "Thanks for the assist, Supey," he smiled. "Now, what's the problem here?"

"No problem," Conner told him. "Not anymore."

Roy smirked and threw himself back down on the couch. "I told you that you were worried for nothing. Robin's gotten himself into and out of more places than half the League."

Robin blinked and looked at his other two companions. "Aw, you guys were worried about little old me?"

Conner huffed. "There isn't anything wrong with that," he muttered, frowning.

The younger boy laughed. "No, you're right. There isn't anything wrong with that, but I hope you have a little more faith in me than that! I was only gone a half an hour tops!"

"It's not you that we don't trust," Artemis pointed out. "Sportsmaster and Cheshire shouldn't be underestimated."

"Shit happens," Conner added.

Robin gaped at the clone. Although Conner's comment struck him as funny, Robin bit his lip to keep from openly showing his amusement. Superboy and Artemis had obviously both been worried about him, and that was kind of . . . He didn't know . . . sweet, maybe? Either way, he couldn't say anything without embarrassing Superboy and giving Roy extra fodder in which torment the other two members of the team.

"You're right," Robin said, trying to ease the tensions running rampant in the small compartment. "Sometimes it does, but not tonight. Tonight I planted a bug in the bad guys' cabin." He moved through the door into his and Conner's cabin. "And _**I**_ , for one, am interested in whatever they might be talking about."

The other three followed him in as Robin began setting up his holo-computer on his wrist. "I should be able to link up to the bug I left in their room any second. They were in a hot debate when they reentered their cabin, so I set it up to record as well as transmit. What we hear will be on a five minute delay."

"Why five minutes," Conner asked.

"Have you felt that wind out there recently? It's even worse than last night. The snow's picked up some as well. I could barely see to find my way back here," Robin complained.

"You should be careful up there," Artemis scolded gently.

Robin snorted, good-naturedly. "I _was_ careful. If I hadn't been, I would have already fallen off of the train."

The idea that Robin could have fallen without anyone being the wiser sent a shiver through at least two of his teammates. Roy shrugged it off.

"I told you. Rob can take care of himself," the redhead reminded them.

"Wouldn't real-time be better?" Conner was curious.

"Normally," Robin agreed, "but I didn't want to miss out on what they were talking about as they came back. Short of hanging out outside of their window while dangling off of a speeding train, I opted to set it up with a short delay."

"It only took you five minutes to get back here? How close together are we?" Artemis crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

"They are just two cars over," Robin told them. "I'm surprised it took us this long to locate them. Okay, here it is. Quiet."

* * *

There was a thump that sounded suspiciously like a door closing.

"Why do you suspect the League may be onto us," came an almost nasally voice.

Conner interrupted. "That's the scientist Robin and I observed with Sportsmaster and Cheshire. I'd recognize that voice anywhere."

Robin nodded. "His name is Dr. Paul Overton. He's out of a lab in Ontario. He's been experimenting with different kinds of solar radiation."

"They've been one-step behind us for the last several months," Sportsmaster's voice cut in; sounding annoyed.

Whereas he sounded annoyed, Cheshire's voice conveyed mild amusement. "Usually by using the mini-Leaguers to foil the plans of the almighty Light."

"Mini-Leaguers." Sportsmaster snorted. "The Justice League's gone soft in the head and become lazy; depending on children to do their dirty work for them."

"You're just angry because they've actually done a reasonably good job of it," Cheshire laughed.

"Those children are in over their heads," Sportsmaster griped. "The League nor their whelps have any idea what they're in for. They've not stopped the plans the Light has set in motion. They've barely even delayed it a bit. Everything is still happening within schedule."

"But if the League is aware of what we're doing, then it is possible that they could have someone aboard the train right now," Overton continued; his mind remaining on topic. "Is the prototype safe in the baggage car? I told you that we should have kept it with us in here!"

"It was too large," Sportsmaster replied angrily. "It would have looked too suspicious lugging into the cabin. In the baggage car, it remains inconspicuous. No one will be the wiser as long as you shut the hell up while we're out in public!"

"I demand that you retrieve it," Overton was saying. "Until we have arrived at our destination, we need to keep the prototype and its schematics with us."

"What? You expect to drag that thing into the dining car with us?" Cheshire laughed. "Do you really think no one will notice you carrying around a large laser rifle without becoming just a little bit suspicious?"

Overton scoffed. "We wouldn't take it in public. We would dine in the cabin or else leave one person behind to protect it."

"I'm already going stir crazy being stuck in here with you for part of the day," Sportsmaster complained. "I'm not going spend meals in here, too." His voice lowered dangerously. "You are already mere inches from death as it is . . ."

"What?" The doctor screeched. "B-But you need me!"

"We'll deliver the hard drive and the prototype," Sportsmaster replied, apparently unconcerned. "I'm fairly certain that we'll be paid either way . . . Hell! They may even give us a bonus for saving them from your constant bellyaching."

* * *

Robin muted the sound, and swung around to face the others.

"It's in the second baggage car. A laser rifle . . . Now we know what we're looking for! You need to go retrieve it right away!"

Artemis frowned. "I thought we determined that we would give ourselves away and endanger the civilians on the train by retrieving it immediately."

Robin shook his head. "That was before. They already suspect that someone is here. If they keep the laser with them, it will make it easier for them to slip away from us with both Overton and the prototype."

"Better to retrieve it now," Roy concurred, "before they do."

"And what's to stop them from searching the train for it and discovering us with it?" Artemis made a good point.

"We'll deal with that problem when we come to it," Robin told them. "Once we have it, we can figure out the best way to hide it from them."

Superboy nodded. "Like you did with your belt," he said. "You hid it in the wall by removing a panel."

"Exactly," Robin agreed. "If nothing else, I can always embed a tracking device in it."

"And then what? Chuck it from a moving train?" Roy snorted. "Retrieve it in the spring?"

Artemis swung around. "Better than leaving it in the hands of the Light!"

Roy raised his hands. "Easy there, Princess. I'm one of the good guys, remember?"

She forced herself to relax. "Sorry," she muttered. "It's easy to forget sometimes."

Roy scowled at the backhanded apology, but said nothing. Anything more and the two of them would likely come to blows. Not a good thing when the mission had yet to be completed.

Robin waved for silence. "They're still talking," he told them. "You three go locate that laser rifle. I'm going to listen in a little more; see if they reveal anything more about the Light's plan."

"Right," Roy looked out at the swirling snow with dread. "It looks cold out there," he commented. "Well, no time like the present to freeze one's . . ."

"Don't finish that sentence, Harper; there's a lady present," Robin warned him over his shoulder. He pulled small earbuds out of his belt and slid them into place; already returning to the bugged conversation going on in the cabin two cars over.

"Sorry," Roy managed to look abashed. "It's easy to forget."

Artemis ground her teeth together, but decided to save her rebuttal until later. She retrieved her bow and quiver in preparation.

Superboy grunted and rolled his eyes. This antagonism between the two archers was growing old. They needed to learn to work together. He pushed past them into the other cabin and shoved open the window. The wind sent snow flying throughout the small room.

Roy slid his mask in place and followed Artemis through the window and out on top of the train car. He nearly slipped on an icy patch, but his wrists were caught by Superboy and Artemis. The clone tugged him onto the center of the car. Artemis stepped back and smirked at him.

"Better watch your step up here," she warned; yelling over top of the noise the train made. Her ponytail whipped back and forth around her face. She used one hand to hold it back.

Artemis could have easily rubbed his mistake in, but instead she turned and begun making her way toward the rear of the train and the second baggage car. Superboy said nothing; just raised an eyebrow before he, too, turned and followed her.

"Well, shit," Roy muttered, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He readjusted his bow, ducked his head against the wind and snow, and trudged after them.

* * *

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 **The next chapter is only partially written. Well, that is not entirely true . . . I've written the next chapter and the one following at least 6, maybe 7, times. Each version is equally as awesome as the others, but for you, dear readers, I am striving for something more! There will be a bit of a wait, but not too long. I promise!**

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	6. When Shit Hits The Fan

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

Reaching the last car, Artemis was already gripping the edge. She barely glanced back before she swung herself down onto the small platform that made up the back of the car. Superboy landed next to her a second later. She had just popped the lock when Red Arrow joined them. She slammed the door shut behind them.

The three shook the snow from their head and shoulders, and looked around the interior of the car. There were stacks of luggage on one end, but the back half was filled with larger trunks and crates. Their objective was packed in one of them.

Artemis laid a hand on Conner's arm. "Let's try not to smash anything if we can avoid it. Maybe they'll come back and see everything is undisturbed and leave it alone. The longer we can go without being detected the better."

Superboy looked a little disappointed, but grunted in affirmation. He wouldn't break anything. He picked a crate and gripped the edges; with gentle exertion, Conner pried the top up, revealing its contents.

Roy stuffed a hand into the straw-like packing material. He tugged out the first item he came to. He read the label on a brown bottle.

"Bourbon," he announced. He pulled out another bottle. "Cognac. I don't suppose they would pack a devastating laser rifle in with a shipment of liquor, would they?"

Conner snorted. "Sounds like a fire hazard to me."

"Right," Roy nodded; shoving the bottles back and let Conner lay the lid back into place.

With a careful fist, the Boy of Steel carefully pounded the nails back into the wooden crate. It looked the same as it did before they opened it. Not bad, Roy thought to himself as they moved to the next crate.

Artemis was picking the locks on the trunks and meticulously searching through them before closing the lid and locking them back; their owners unwise to the fact that their contents had ever been disturbed.

If everything went right, they would be back in their cabin in an hour; hiding the prototype, and laying low until they reached Prince Rupert. Despite what Superboy had said about being stuck on the train for another two days, Roy had hopes that they could alert Batman or the rest of the team and arranged for an early pick-up.

This time tomorrow, Roy could be sleeping in his own bed . . .

* * *

Robin didn't bother listening to his companions leave. He was already deep into the conversation happening in a cabin a couple of cars away from theirs. He was hoping to hear something more about the Light's master plan. Trying to piece together something that made sense out of all their little skirmishes was like trying to put together a puzzle with some of the pieces still missing.

"What are you doing?" Sportsmaster asked. "We don't have time for that."

"Why? Do you have something better to do?" Cheshire remarked snidely.

"I'm pulling up my schematics," Overton answered defensively. "I've been working on a way to make the effects of the laser last longer. Unfortunately, yellow sunlight can diminish the effects and eventually eradicate them over time, but I'm confident that, with a little more time, I can improve on my original concept."

 _Yellow sunlight_? Uneasiness crept over Robin at the mention. His investigation into Paul Overton had led to information about the man's research into solar radiation. What specific bands of radiation wasn't disclosed, but considering the amount of interest the Light had in Overton's research and prototype, it wasn't a great leap to conclude that the scientist had been dabbling in the effects of red sun radiation.

Had the doctor discovered a way to reproduce the same kind of radiation one would find in a red sun giant?

 _Oh, this was bad_ . . .

Through Batman, Robin knew that Superman received his power through his body's absorption of yellow sun radiation. But on Krypton, his people hadn't been super-powered at all. The radiation of their red sun left the inhabitants not much more different than that of average humans.

If Overton had developed a laser rifle capable of firing off a concentrated burst of red sun radiation, the Light had a way of mitigating the power of Superman himself! Even if the effects were temporary, this would be a way for the Light to eliminate the League's heavy hitter from the game.

"You convinced me. I believe you have something of value, else I wouldn't have agreed to escort you to one of the Light's labs," Sportsmaster told him. "So tell me, can that thing actually make the mighty Superman no more powerful than your average human?" He asked, sounding thoughtful.

"It would leave him no more powerful than the average Kryptonian had been on their own world," Overton clarified.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Crock asked.

"It means that Superman would be as vulnerable to damage as any of his people would have been on Krypton," Overton restated.

"Vulnerable to damage . . .?"

"Superman _is_ the only Kryptonian left after the destruction of his world."

The doctor spoke slowly as if to a child. Instead of being insulted, Sportsmaster allowed himself to be led to the scientist's own conclusions, and reason why the Light had been so determined to obtain the man and his weapon.

"Are you saying that your laser can _kill_ Superman?"

Robin held his breath.

"The laser? No . . ." Overton chuckled.

Robin slumped as relief coursed through him.

"However, it will allow him to be killed by other methods while suffering the draining effects of the red sun radiation," Overton concluded with some glee.

"That's what I thought you meant," Sportsmaster's voice came through the link sounding disturbingly satisfied.

 _Oh, crud_! _This was big stuff_! He needed to contact Batman! This was . . . Sportsmaster's next words halted the Boy Wonder in his tracks.

"Get your stuff together," Crock said. "We about to pop this joint."

"What do you mean?" Cheshire's voice followed.

"I called for transport for a pick up before we left for dinner," Sportsmaster told them.

"In _this_ weather?" Cheshire sounded skeptical. "And they agreed?"

"You'd better hurry, or else I'm leaving you behind," Crock told her.

"What the hell? Why didn't you didn't tell me this earlier," Cheshire responded angrily.

"I'm telling you now," he snapped. "Get moving!"

"This isn't a dictatorship, you know," Cheshire argued. "You can't just change the plan without consulting me first."

"Well, it sure as hell isn't a democracy, little girl! I'm pulling rank and upping the timetable. Let's go!"

This was what Robin had been afraid of . . . And why his gut had insisted that he send the team ahead to search out the prototype early.

"Hold up, what's this?" Overton's voice interrupted.

"What's what?" Crock snapped.

"This thing . . . ." Overton said. Robin could almost imagine the little man gesturing.

"Well, well . . . It appears as though we have company?" Cheshire's voice came through Robin's earbuds next.

The Boy Wonder pushed back his chair; alarmed. _Uh oh_ . . .

"What are you talking about?" Sportsmaster asked her; irritated. Footsteps, heavy boots, could be heard walking across the floor.

"Just a little infestation problem," she answered. "Leave that," she snapped. "We've have to get to the baggage car now before . . . _Bzzzt_."

The connection terminated; confirming Robin's fears. They'd been found out.

He leapt to his feet; tumbling his chair as he yanked free the now worthless earbuds. There was no way he could possibly beat Sportsmaster and Cheshire to the baggage car. It was more likely that they were already there; engaged in battle while Robin had been listening to a conversation that had ended five minutes ago.

But Robin had important information . . . Vital information! The team didn't know what this laser rifle did yet. Worse! They had no idea of the danger this weapon presented to one of their own!

"Robin to Superboy. Come in, Superboy!"

Robin shoved his upper body out of the window. The wind whipped his hair and snagged his cape; almost throwing him off balance. But Robin had dealt with the wind several times already and had been prepared for the assault. He turned around so as to grab the railing that followed the edge of the roofline and pulled the rest of his body free. Bracing his feet on the window ledge, he adjusted his grip and climbed atop the train.

"Robin to Artemis! Come in, Artemis!"

Was the train traveling faster? Or had the wind increased in strength in the last twenty minutes? The temperature felt like it had dropped several degrees from when he was last out here. He shook his head. It had to be his imagination, he determined. His cape flew out in front of him, obscuring his view. Robin tugged it behind him, using his body to keep the material under control, and struggled to ignore the wild flapping of its edges. He was tempted to just rid himself of it altogether.

The fact that he had gotten no answer from his hail had him moving back along the cars at a dangerous rate. The wind guaranteed that very little snow accumulated on the fast-moving train, but it didn't prevent ice from building up. His boots crunched along the rough patches while he prayed he didn't hit a slippery spot in his haste. The danger of falling off the train was entirely real.

"Robin to Red Arrow." Why wasn't anyone answering him? "Come in, anybody!"

He attached a line along the rail and checked his grip. Robin decided to make his entrance dramatic. If he were lucky, he would only be dodging his teammates' attacks and have arrived in time to warn them. If he were unlucky . . . Hopefully, then, his entrance would somehow give his team an advantage.

* * *

"Well, well . . . Look what climbs out of the cracks after dark," Cheshire's voice had the trio spinning around.

Artemis and Roy stopped what they were doing to grab their bows. Both were aiming at Cheshire and Sportsmaster; the scientist was no threat without his prototype weapon, whatever it was. The team had yet to find it, but they hadn't been in the baggage car for more than fifteen minutes. There was a lot of places that were big enough to hide the laser rifle that Robin had described.

"Freeze," Roy spat. "You're outnumbered and outmatched."

Cheshire smirked. "Hardly outnumbered," she said, indicating the quivering scientist behind her. "And hardly outmatched." Shuriken dropped into her hands from the sleeves of her civilian jacket almost magically.

Sportsmaster grabbed Overton's jacket in the front and shoved him back against the wall. He pushed him sideways along the shelving units that held extra suitcases as he positioned himself in front of him. Until they obtained the weapon, Overton was the most valuable commodity the Light had in its possession. But not for long.

Artemis' arrow stayed on her sister as Roy's followed the path that Sportsmaster was taking.

"I said to freeze," Roy warned once more.

They didn't want to harm what they assumed was an innocent civilian, and that would be their downfall, Sportsmaster decided. Overton was anything but an innocent.

The scientist tripped over a trunk that lay in his path. He scrambled to right himself even as Sportsmaster yanked him back to his feet with one hand. The man's other hand had moved to one of his pockets in his coat, and he pulled out a foot long piece of metal. With a shake of his hand it extended in both directions to make for him a staff.

No, not a staff, but a javelin. Roy's eyes noted how the ends narrowed to a point. That would be deadly if any of them were to be struck by it. Well, that would be him and Artemis. Superboy would simply break the thing.

As if in response, Superboy took a step forward making himself a target for Sportsmaster, and yet automatically leaving Roy room to aim and take a shot if he had to. Must be from months of working closely with Artemis, he determined, that the clone had learned how to work in conjunction with an archer.

He frowned, wondering where Robin was and why he hadn't warned them that they were about to get company. Had the Boy Wonder intercepted these two and fallen? He shook his head, as if to dispel the unpalatable idea. Hadn't he just told the other two that Robin could handle himself? Where was his faith?

Roy let his eyes slide to the empty doorway briefly. No Robin . . . Not yet, anyway. _He'll be here_ , the former sidekick assured himself. _He's just running late, that's all_.

 _Hurry up, Rob_! _We're going to need you for backup sooner rather than later_ , Roy thought. Unconsciously, he allowed his aim to move to a slightly more damaging location on Sportsmaster's torso.

* * *

"You still hanging out with these losers?"

Artemis wrinkled her nose. "I stopped hanging out with losers after Dad left," she told her sister softly.

To her surprise, Cheshire laughed. "Touché," she grinned.

"What are you doing here, Jade?" Artemis let her voice lower still. Superboy would be able to overhear her if he were so inclined, but she was confident that the Boy of Steel was too busy facing off with her father to hear her words. "This isn't _you_! It never was! I thought we agreed to stop letting him control us? Don't let him win and make you into his pawn."

Cheshire's grin disappeared. "Don't speak of things you don't understand, little sister. Despite what you think, this isn't all about what _Dad_ wants."

Artemis glanced nervously over her shoulder, but her teammates' attention remained glued to Sportsmaster and the scientist he was holding.

Cheshire followed her gaze. "What? You've still haven't told them about your family's history with the law?"

"It's not exactly something I'm proud of, so no, I've kept that little tidbit to myself," Artemis snapped.

"Ouch," Jade mocked lightly. "And now you're just hoping that no one opens their mouths and outs you, aren't you?"

Artemis flinched, but she also remembered that Jade had kept her promise to keep her little sister's secret before . . . but at a cost. "Sorry, Jade. I can't let you escape this time. Not even to keep my secret."

* * *

Several things happened next, beginning with the rear door to the baggage car crashing in and a couple of smoke bombs exploding simultaneously. Robin entered with a swirl of smoke and snow. He rolled forward, flinging a bolo in Sportsmaster's direction.

Sportsmaster dodged to the side, but it wasn't him that Robin had been aiming for. The small, round weights attached by a reinforced cord wrapped around Overton's calves; causing the scientist to fall over behind one of the many stacks of trunks; effectively removing him from immediate danger.

Even as this occurred, Robin shot his grapple gun into the wall behind Cheshire, and hit recoil. The gun's design enabled Robin to shoot up several stories at astounding speed, so he flew at the assassin so quickly that she almost hadn't time to fling herself out of the way. The Boy Wonder's boots slammed into the wall with enough force to crack the panel. He rebounded instantly; flipping backward over her shoulders and landing in front of her; his escrima sticks at the ready.

"Robin," Artemis cried out upon seeing the young hero. She raised her bow again and fired, a net opened to encase Cheshire.

"Another one?" Cheshire groaned dramatically. She quickly and easily cut the ropes of the net with one of her kunais, a sharp throwing knife. "How many of you are there?"

Roy laughed. "'Bout time, Rob! What was keeping you?"

"Too busy eavesdropping on other people's conversations, no doubt," Sportsmaster answered for him.

He leapt forward using his javelin to stab at Red Arrow. Roy jumped back, swinging his bow as a means of deflecting the sharp weapon away from him. Superboy grabbed the tip of the javelin and broke off the tip of it. But this didn't faze the older man. He merely stepped back and flipped what was left of his sharped staff in his hand.

"What about you, clone?" Sportsmaster teased. "Still having trouble keeping up with your old man?"

Conner snarled. He still hated to be compared unfavorably with Superman. He threw a punch in anger that Sportsmaster easily dodged. Probably for the best as the boy's fist crashed through a crate behind him. When he pulled out his hand, the lid was ripped free. Loose hay and other packing material fell out as did a long, hard-skinned case that clattered to the floor of the car at the Superboy's feet.

Sportsmaster dove, grabbing the case and rolled toward the back of the car. He tossed the dark gray canister behind the same stack of trunks behind which the scientist cowered.

"Here," he snapped. "Make yourself useful!"

Robin's eyes widened as he realized what they had just allowed the enemy to recover.

"No! That's the laser rifle," he yelled in warning.

Robin struck out at Cheshire, but she flipped out of the way; one of her boots caught the young hero in his chin, making him stumble back. Artemis pulled another arrow and fired. The arrow was blunt-tipped and struck Cheshire in her thigh, making her fall back and giving the two of them time to regroup.

Red Arrow let loose an arrow that struck Sportsmaster in the chest; releasing enough voltage to render the man unconscious.

"There's nowhere for you to go," he declared to Cheshire and Overton. "Might as well give it up now. We have the advantage here."

"Not yet, Arrow Boy," Cheshire snarked.

Overton, now free from the bolas, rose up from his hiding place holding the laser rifle. "Field test in progress," he announced joyfully. A red light shot out of the end of the rifle.

"No! Superboy, look out!" Robin yelled as he struggled back to his feet.

Instead, the Kryptonian clone stepped purposely into the path of the laser, unaware that he was the original target. The beam struck him in his side, along his ribcage, and staggered him. Conner gasped and slapped a hand over the spot.

Unbelieving, he gaped at the little man that they had all underestimated. "What did you do to me?"

Cheshire used the distraction to loose a few of her own little gadgets. She tossed one toward Robin. Recognizing it for an explosive, Robin leapt forward; grabbing Artemis around the waist and knocking her out of the way. Cheshire flipped behind another stack of bins.

"Take cover," Robin yelled, even as he shoved Artemis yet further away from the blast zone.

* * *

The explosion was larger than any of them expected. The front part of the car was torn open to the weather and the wind and snow was suddenly ripping at everyone as the car bounced violently twice. People and boxes flew in all directions as the car tilted ominously, and finally slammed down onto its side; skidding along the icy rails in a slow spin.

Crates, trunks, boxes and suitcases flew from the shelves on one side burying those unlucky enough to be on the side of the car that now served as the floor. Those left were flung amidst the wreckage. The screech of the heavy aluminum siding that made up the outside of the car against the metal rails was high-pitch and deafening. If anyone screamed, it was drowned out.

Had anyone been able to look, they might have noticed the rest of the train drawing away from them at an ever-increasing speed. They might have seen the surrounding landscape give way to open air as the car slid out across the large bridge that spanned an enormous gorge. They might have been aware of the ever-thickening fall of snow that had already begun to blanket part of the interior of the broken railroad car.

Slowly, the car eased to a precarious stop; the now-open end jutting dangerously over the edge of the bridge.

There was no movement except the furiously flying snow . . . No sound, but the wailing of the wind and the low roar of the half-frozen river far below.

* * *

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	7. From Bad To Worse

**For the guest reviewer who asked: 3 bad guys plus 4 good guys equals 7 people left behind as the train continued on its journey without them.**

 **Warning: Language and Peril . . .**

* * *

Cheshire shoved a small case off of her face and blinked her eyes. It wasn't full dark outside yet, but what little light the storm allowed was fading quickly. Inside of the baggage car, it was already hard to see in the deep shadows. She stifled a groan as she pulled herself free of a few suitcases.

Panic flared as she looked around. Artemis had been near her when the car had derailed and slammed onto its side. Where was she? She yanked out a small penlight and shone its beam over the shambles. She found their father lying partially buried beneath one of the heavier crates, but she ignored him. The man had been a thorn in her side from the day she was born. That she worked with him now was only out of necessity. There was certainly no love lost between them.

But her sister . . .

Cheshire's light grazed over the edges of a cape; the Boy Wonder himself wasn't visible, but he had been shoving Artemis out of the way of the blast. She would be nearby.

Cheshire picked her way across the rubble. A groan floated to her ear above the howling wind, but it was male. She moved on; working her way over toward Robin's location. As she neared, her penlight found a feminine arm exposed and the edge of her sister's bow. She started tugging boxes and bags away; tossing them carelessly aside.

"Artemis," she cried out.

Her sister lifted her head. Dazed gray eyes met concerned one.

"Are you okay?"

"Ugh," Artemis grunted, and began helping to free herself. "I don't know. I think so. Are you?"

Jade smirked, relieved. "Been better," she replied, "but I've been worse, too."

"What happened?" The blonde touched a shaking hand to her pounding head.

Her smirk fell away. "My bad . . . My explosives were a little too large for the enclosed space. It derailed the car when it blew out the front wall. On the bright side, we detached from the rest of the train, so it is only the baggage car that was wrecked." She sighed. "On the other hand, we've detached from the rest of the train and are now stranded in the middle of the wilderness; in the middle of what promises to be a blizzard of epic proportions."

Artemis' eyes grew as she took in the devastation around them. Red Arrow was up now and stumbling over the pile of debris; intent on reaching something only he could see. She located their father.

"Dad?" She whispered.

"He's not dead, unfortunately. I heard him groaning and moving around as I was digging you out," Jade glanced back at the man in disgust.

Sportsmaster sat up. Blood flowed freely from a cut near his hairline. One hand was clamped onto his thigh as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. His eyes sought them out, but he turned back to the matter at hand without acknowledging either of his daughters. They were free and alive. The mission would remain his priority.

He shoved at a crate and then, bracing himself, Sportsmaster pulled Overton physically from the boxes that covered him.

"Where's the rifle?" He barked into the little man's face.

Overton pointed to the spot Sportsmaster had just pulled him free of. "There. It's there."

Blood dripped down the side of the scientist's face as he picked up the rifle with shaking hands. He looked as though he would pass out at any moment. Apparently Sportsmaster thought so, too.

"Don't pass out," he growled at the swaying man. "Jade, time to go."

Pulling out his hammer, a heavy steel ball on a chain, Sportsmaster used it to punch a hole in the side the train car above them. He began shoving the scientist up and out of the side of the car before following him up.

"Hurry up," he yelled down to Cheshire. "The helicopter is due to arrive here any minute. That storm's coming in hard and fast. If you aren't up here when it gets here, we're leaving without you!"

As if to make his point, the wind gusted strongly; making the entire car squeal and quake where it sat precariously on the bridge.

"It feels like it's already here," Artemis commented.

Jade helped her sister to stand, and then held out her hand.

"Come with us," she said. "Help's a long way off. You'll die out here if you stay."

Artemis heard movement coming from behind them. Red Arrow had located Robin and was struggling to move a heavy trunk that had him pinned. Where was Superboy?

"You go on ahead," she told her, breathlessly. "I can't leave them behind."

"You're crazy. There's a blizzard moving in and you're fifty miles or more from the nearest town," Jade replied angrily.

"I guess we'll be walking then," Artemis snapped back. "Better get going, sister. I can hear your ride."

"Stubborn," Jade grumbled.

"It comes naturally," Artemis snarked back at her.

Jade leapt upward, catching the jagged edge of the hole and dragged herself through it. "Suit yourself, little sister."

* * *

Artemis climbed over the debris to help Roy. "Is he hurt?"

"I'm okay," Robin answered for himself. "Where's Conner? He's going to need our help!"

Roy stood up and looked around. "He should have been the first one to get free of this mess."

Robin staggered to his feet; swaying unsteadily. "He was hit with the laser rifle," he explained hastily. "I overheard them saying it shoots a concentrated beam of red sun radiation."

"Red sun?" Roy glanced at the younger boy, startled; the connection already being made in his head.

"I don't get it," Artemis complained. "What's so special about red sun radiation?"

"Only that it can strip the powers of Superman," Roy told her.

"Or, in this case, those of his clone," Robin choked out. "Conner!"

"Superboy!" Roy yelled. It was difficult to see into the deeper shadows. "Do you see him?"

Robin pulled out his bat-light; shining it around the compartment. Artemis turned around frantically. Could he have been thrown out of the car when it had been spinning? She stared through the hole Cheshire had blown out of the baggage car, but couldn't see the bottom of the gorge from where she stood.

"Somebody," a voice gasped. "I can't breathe . . . under here."

Roy and Robin ran to the sound and found the clone pinned under a heavy crate. Liquid was pouring from between the slats. One whiff confirmed that it was alcohol.

Conner looked up at them in confusion. "I can't lift it," he told them breathlessly. "I don't understand . . . Why can't I lift it?"

"It's going to be okay, buddy," Roy told him as he braced himself to lift the crate. "We're going to get this off of you."

"Are you hurt?" Robin asked.

"No . . . I-I don't . . . know." Conner's face took on an expression of barely concealed panic. "I don't know. Something . . . Something _hurts_?"

Artemis kneeled next to Superboy's head. Her eyes widened. "Is that . . . blood?"

"Blood? Are you sure?" Roy gaped at her. He stopped to readjust his grip. The crate was too heavy for him.

"Blood? Whose blood?" Conner looked between them, alarmed.

"No, I'm not sure," she snapped at Roy, worriedly. "He's supposed to be invulnerable! How could that be blood?"

"His powers have been stripped from him," Robin reminded her. "He's no longer invulnerable to injury."

"Are you saying that I-I'm bleeding?" Conner asked; astounded by the concept.

"No, that can't be right," Artemis shook her head; speaking to Robin. "You meant he's just stripped of his strength, right?"

"While under the effects of the radiation," Robin hissed under his breath; trusting that Conner would be unable to hear his whisper now, "he can be killed. He could _die_."

"Oh, God," she gasped out loud. "This is bad!"

"Is it bad?" Conner stared at her.

"No!" Finally focusing her attention on Superboy, Artemis tried to reassure him. "No, I'm just saying that this situation is lousy, but don't worry, Conner. You're going to be okay!"

"Where's Sportsmaster? And Cheshire?" Robin looked around suddenly.

"Hey!" Roy grunted. "I could use a little help here."

Artemis pointed to what was now the roof of the baggage car and the gaping hole in it. Snow was blowing in and covering the area that had been previously protected until her father had torn a hole in it.

"They climbed out a little while ago," she told them. "Cheshire said something about a helicopter. They are going to get airlifted out before the worst of the storm sets in." But truth be told, from what Artemis could see, it was already bad out there.

Robin looked alarmed. "We can't let them escape with that weapon! Artemis, see if you can delay them while Roy and I get Conner free." He turned back to the task at hand; gripping his corner of the crate.

"Stop them, Artemis," Robin called back over his shoulder. "Anyway you can."

She nodded as she made her way to the hole Cheshire had disappeared through. "Sure, but I'm going to need backup pretty quick."

"We'll be right behind you," Roy promised. "This is going to hurt," he warned the Kryptonian.

Superboy grunted from the discomfort. "What's a little pain amongst friends," he tried to joke. It fell flat.

Robin grimaced. "You really need to work on your delivery."

* * *

Artemis winced in sympathy at the roar of pain that followed her out of the train car. She looked over to see her father talking to someone on a communicator. The wind was far worse out here; whipping her hair across her face.

"You can leave, but you can't take the rifle or the scientist with you," she yelled over the wind. _This was so not going to work_.

"Your idea of a joke is sadly lacking, baby girl," Sportsmaster told her as he closed his communicator; slipping the device back into one of his pockets.

"It's no joke," Artemis insisted. She pulled out her bow and notched an arrow. "Go! Start walking, but you're leaving the scientist and that weapon behind."

Jade stepped in front of the scientist. "Sorry, little sister, but the scientist and his weapon were kind of the whole point of this."

A whistle sounded in the distance. Artemis frowned as she looked beyond her family toward the source of the sound. Jade turned as well, glancing behind her.

"What was that?" Artemis asked, although she really didn't think she wanted to know.

"Sounded like a train whistle," her father commented, unconcerned.

"I know what it sounded like, but I thought the train kept going after the baggage car was disconnected," she snapped.

Jade looked from Sportsmaster back to Artemis. "It did."

The girls' father started laughing. "It's a new train," he explained to them both. "Headed in the opposite direction."

Jade was frowning now. "But . . . the opposite direction means it is coming _toward_ us."

"Exactly," Sportsmaster agreed.

"But the baggage car is balanced across both sets of tracks," she exclaimed.

" _ **What**_?" Artemis looked down at the bridge they were on for the first time.

Her sister was right. Their train car was bent in the middle. Most of it lay across one set of tracks, but a portion of it extended across the tracks that ran parallel to theirs. She glanced behind her and saw that nearly a third of the car also jutted out over the side of the bridge and into open air!

"Oh no!" It didn't take a genius to see that when the other train barreled into the end of their car, it would sent it plummeting down into the gorge below.

Visibility was getting worse. Would the engineer be able to see them in time to stop? It was still twilight, but with the storm approaching, it was more like night had already settled in. She watched with dread as a light approached fast in their distance, but then she realized that it was too high to be the oncoming train.

 _Dad's ride_ , Artemis concluded with only a little relief. _That pilot has to be crazy_ , she thought as another gust of wind threatened to push her off the top of the car.

"You can still come with us," Jade told her.

Artemis glanced down in the dark interior of the car. "I can't leave my friends."

"They'd leave _you_ in a heartbeat, baby girl," Sportsmaster replied.

Artemis frowned. "No! They wouldn't. And I won't leave them either!"

" _Don't be a fool, Artemis_! You're going to _die_ out here!" Jade yelled at her; repeating her earlier warning.

"Not likely," she told her, but her bravado was wearing periously thin.

 _Oh God_ , Artemis thought. _We are_ so _going to die out here_ . . .

"You guys need to get up here in a hurry," Artemis called below.

The helicopter was now hovering above them. It was fighting the wind gusts successfully, but only just barely. It was only a matter of time before Mother Nature proved too strong for the military-grade aircraft and its talented pilot. The door opened and a rope ladder descended. Sportsmaster pushed the scientist toward it. As Overton started to swing the rifle over his shoulder, Artemis bit her lip and took an impossible shot.

Only a brief lull in the wind and her proximity to her target allowed Artemis to compensate enough for the wind to slice the strap. The wobbling arrow also ended up slicing Overton's hand and knocking the weapon from his grip.

"No!" Her father yelled.

Sportsmaster dove for it, but the rifle fell off the car and between the tracks to the ground far below them. They watched helplessly as it disappeared in the snow and brush that lined the large river. It was a long drop; one hundred feet or more. There was no guarantee that, should they recover the weapon, it wouldn't be damaged beyond repair.

" _Damn it_ , Artemis!" Her father took a couple of menacing steps in her direction.

"No time, daddy dearest," Cheshire grabbed his shoulder. "The pilot is signaling us to move. The wind is getting too bad."

"The rifle . . ."

"We still have the scientist that designed it," she reminded him, "and his schematics!"

"Or not," Artemis said as she let loose another arrow. This arrow, however, was plucked out of the air by the unpredictable gale, and sent flying harmlessly out into the gorge.

The scientist, expecting the shot, stumbled backwards from the perceived threat and fell. Sportsmaster grabbed him by the belt and pulled him back onto the relative safety of the baggage car.

"Hang on," he told Overton; pulling out a line. He used it to attach the smaller man to him by his belt.

"Start climbing," Sportsmaster ordered; hauling the little man up onto the ladder ahead of him.

* * *

Red Arrow climbed through the hole. He turned; leaning down to give Superboy a hand up. Robin followed right behind them. It took only a few seconds for the trio to sum up the situation as dire.

The light from the oncoming train had just rounded the bend. The vibrations would announce the second it began crossing the bridge. Visibility was less than fifty percent, and it wasn't likely that the engineer would have time to stop by the time he spotted the derailed baggage car.

"I got the rifle away from them, but they're escaping with that scientist creep," Artemis yelled over the wind. She pointed at the other side of the bridge. "And there is another train coming! We have to get off of the tracks now!"

"You're not going anywhere yet, Cheshire," Red Arrow called.

He shot an arrow at the rope ladder. The wind shoved it off course, but it succeeded in nicking the rope. The bottom half now dangled precariously, being whipped about madly. He moved forward to grab at her.

"I disagree," she said with a smile.

She flung a couple of balls the size of marbles. They exploded, not in front of Red Arrow, but next to Robin and Superboy. Robin flung himself to the side; rolling and catching the side of the car. Superboy, however, was flung backward by the blast and toppled off the edge of the baggage car and into empty space.

" _Superboy_!" Artemis screamed.

" _Shit_!" Roy growled. Without powers, the Kryptonian would surely die upon impact! Red Arrow spun around in an effort to save his falling teammate.

"Stop her! I've got him," Robin called out as he kicked off the roof of the car and into a dive.

Cheshire stepped to the edge of the car and pulled out a shuriken. "Ah, but who's got _you_ , Boy Wonder?"

* * *

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	8. Out of the Frying Pan

**Plenty of POV changes here. I try to separate them all, so keep aware and you shouldn't have any trouble following along as we pop back and forth between scenes and people.**

 **Warning: Language and Lots More Peril . . .**

* * *

The bow cracked along the backside of Cheshire's wrist, causing her to drop the deadly shuriken. It clattered along the aluminum siding of the car and slid off into the gorge below. Cheshire yelped; clutching her wrist and swinging angrily about.

Red Arrow grasped her arm and pulled her toward him. "Ah, ah, ah," he taunted. "That's not very nice."

"Haven't you heard? I'm _not_ nice," she snapped as she brought her knee up.

Red Arrow turned into the blow; taking the brunt of it with his hip. He grunted, but his grip didn't loosen. He blocked a blow aimed at his head next. Her foot came down on top of his instep, and Roy gasped. She twisted around in order to elbow him and he barely raised his bow in time to stop it.

"I've had about enough of you," she growled.

"I'd say you hadn't had nearly enough," Red Arrow teased her.

She was good, but he wasn't bad. He thought he had the advantage over her or he wouldn't be smiling. Their faces were but inches apart. Impulsively, Cheshire crossed the distance and kissed him; startling him, but not so much so as to loosen his hold. If anything, his grip strengthened.

"What the . . .?" He gasped in surprise; jerking back.

Jade could see Artemis was skirting the hole in an effort to get to them from the corner of her eye. The light from the oncoming train was almost to the bridge. The helicopter wouldn't wait for her much longer.

"Broken Arrow," she whispered and, just like that, Roy froze. Jade pulled her arm free of his hold.

"Red Arrow! Wh-What did you do to him?" Artemis shoved Cheshire away from him.

"Come on, little sister," Jade grabbed the girl around the waist and snatched what was left of the dangling rope ladder. "Time to go!"

The helicopter immediately lifted up as the train reached the far side of the bridge; pulling both young women, spinning, up into the air. Artemis screamed.

" _NO_! Stop! What are you doing?" she yelled; kicking her feet. "He'll die!"

"It's too late for him," Jade clutched at the struggling teen frantically. "Stop fighting! I can't hold you!"

"Then let me go!" Desperate, Artemis twisted in her sister's grip. With an elbow to Jade's temple, she was able to pull free.

" ** _ARTEMIS_**!" Jade screamed as her sister slipped out of her grasp and fell into the gorge.

* * *

Robin grabbed the sides of his cape; holding it tight against his body in an effort to make him more aerodynamic and increase his speed. The wind was blowing him further from the bridge. He wasn't going to catch Conner this way.

Yanking out a batarang, he flung it in the clone's direction and prayed he had compensated well enough for the wind. It circled the older boy's legs and the rope attached wrapped around them. It wasn't pretty, but it got the job done! Robin pulled hard to tighten the hold enough that Conner wouldn't slip free.

"Hang on, Superboy," he yelled even as he twisted and fired his grapple at the baggage car. The grapple stuck true. As it pulled taut, Robin worked to control his swing and deposit the older boy onto one of the bridge supports.

"Grab hold," he instructed Conner.

* * *

The clone nodded his understanding and caught hold of one of the girders as soon as he was close enough. He struggled to pull his own weight over the freezing metal; not easy without his strength and the ability to use his legs effectively. Once he was on, Conner looked down. He was less than twenty feet above the edge of the river. _That was close_! The sound it made at this distance was like a roar and drown out everything else.

"Got it!" Conner yelled back.

Robin lowered himself down until he was even with the clone. He grinned at him even as the wind whipped him around where he dangled a few feet away.

"Thanks," the older boy called out.

"Welcome! Now, I'm going to swing myself to over to you," Robin yelled to him.

"Right," he shouted and waved.

"Right," Conner repeated under his breath. "I can do this." He carefully switched position so that he could grab Robin's hand when he got close enough. He wiped the blood on his hand on his pants in preparation.

The blood, they had discovered was from a gouge in his shoulder from a broken board. It wasn't deep, and with the amount of adrenaline coursing through him, he didn't feel more than a deep ache. Red Arrow had assured him that it would probably feel worse later. But later hadn't come yet.

* * *

The train sped across the bridge. The snow swirled in a dazzling display in front of its light. The whistle blew shrilly as the engineer finally saw the car in front of him, but there was no way to stop in time! He could only push on through in an effort to shove the bit blocking his side of the tracks away, and hopefully keeping his own train from derailing in the process.

* * *

As the young archer fell, she shot an arrow around one of the bridge supports and used it to swing herself back onto the rails. There was about two feet of solid footing between the two sets of tracks, and Artemis sprinted along this back in the direction of the downed baggage car.

From this angle, she could see that only a small portion of the car crossed the second set of tracks, but it was enough to tip it from its precarious perch the moment the other train crashed into it. She hung her bow over her shoulder and yanked out her miniature crossbow from the pouch on the side of her leg. She strapped it onto her wrist as quickly as she could.

She could feel the vibrations coming through the heavy steel construct. They were strong and getting stronger the closer it came. As she neared the baggage car, Artemis leapt up and grabbed the upper rail; swinging herself back onto its side. The snow was beginning to lay on the aluminum siding and she slipped. The growing rumble was causing the car to shimmy and squeal.

Artemis didn't dare look behind her. She only had one shot at this.

Roy still stood in the exact same position that he had after whatever Jade had done to him. She wondered if he was even aware of the danger barreling down on them. Artemis ran the last few feet between them without slowing and tackled her teammate just as the oncoming train slammed into the edge of the downed car.

The two archers flew off the side of the bridge! There was a crash and screech, followed by a groan, as the baggage car was shoved off of the tracks and into open air.

Artemis extended on arm and shot a line arrow out toward the upper branches of a tree that lined the steep incline that bordered the river's edge. She wrapped her other hand around the straps that held Roy's quiver and prayed she was strong enough to do this.

* * *

Conner had one arm around one of the beams and his free hand extended. Robin used his legs to increase his momentum enough to swing for a third time, confident that this time would bring him close enough. He was reaching out for Conner's hand when he heard the crash above him and his line shook violently. Robin swung wide; missing his teammate's hand by several feet, and then he felt the tension on his rope cease.

Suddenly he was free falling.

" ** _ROBIN_**!"

Conner's expression was one of shock and fear as he fell away. Robin looked above him and saw the baggage car falling towards him.

"Oh, crap," he breathed as he quickly released the hook. There wasn't time to stop his fall, however. Luckily, he was only about fifteen feet above the river, so there was still a chance he'd get through this. But, if he survived, he didn't want to be dragged under behind the car or lose his grapple gun. It was his best hope of survival now.

Even so, hitting the water was like hitting concrete. His breathe was ripped from him by the freezing temperature even as the torrent caught his cape and tumbled him under the water.

Robin gasped and choked as his back slammed into a hidden boulder.

 _Shit_! He had to regain some kind of control if he didn't want his skull crushed, but it was impossible. He felt the impact of another rock as it collided with his hip. As his head finally breached to surface, Robin lifted his gun and fired off another grapple into the trees lining the river. He gulped for air before the current dragged him under again just as his line went taut.

The gun was nearly torn from his hand, and Robin cried out when he felt some of the muscles tear in his shoulder. He received a mouthful of icy river water for his effort. Black spots wavered in front of him and his vision was beginning to tunnel. If he lost consciousness now, he was dead for sure.

Losing feeling in his fingers, it took him two tries to find the recoil button. As the line struggled to pull him from the river's current, Robin saw the baggage car bearing down on him. He twisted in an effort to spin himself out of the way.

He almost succeeded.

His cape caught the ragged edge of the torn aluminum corner and yanked him back into the river's depths; the grapple was wrenched from his grasp. The water closed over his head once more.

* * *

Conner didn't wait to see Robin hit the water below. He wrapped the stylized batarang around the support beam, grabbed the line, and started rappelling down the side of the bridge. The rope burned his palms in his haste to reach the bottom.

He ran out of line just a few feet from the ground, and Conner let himself fall. He rolled and came up on his feet, just as Black Canary had shown him numerous times, but he was on the edge of the river bank. He slipped in the frozen mud; one of his feet slid into the water. His breath caught as icy water poured inside his boot.

God! How much worse would it be for Robin with his entire body plunging beneath the freezing surface?

He grabbed a tree branch; hauling himself back safely onto the snow-crusted bank. Without pause, Conner started running along the river's edge; following the outline of the baggage car on ahead. Its weight and bulk slowed it somewhat. The car smashed into a rock that pushed it into the middle of the river, only to crash into another boulder that pushed it back toward the shore. Conner leapt over fallen branches and dodged trunks and bushes, praying that the train car hadn't caught up to Robin yet.

It would crush him for sure, Conner worried. He cursed his lack of speed. Where was Wally when he needed him? The cold caused his lungs to seize with a stabbing pain as the young clone gasped for breath. One hand clamped against a sudden stitch in his side.

 _Damn it_! _How far ahead had the boy been swept_? _How long could Robin endure those temperatures_? Conner's one foot was already numb as it sloshed inside its boot! But he had caught up to the baggage car.

Then he saw it. A taut line grasping a tree branch. Robin had saved himself! Conner grinned in relief . . .

Catching sight of the younger boy through the dimness of the falling night and the heavy, swirling snow Conner watched as Robin edged his way toward the embankment. There was another crash as the baggage car hit another boulder in the river and spun back toward Robin.

Conner called a warning, but the boy appeared to see the danger. He twisted around in an attempt to avoid the car. Conner slowed as it seemed as though the boy managed the feat, but then suddenly, abruptly, Robin was violently yanked backward.

" ** _No_**! **_No, no, no_** ," Conner roared. He had been so close . . .

The Boy Wonder disappeared beneath the black water.

* * *

Artemis angled her legs around in an effort to ward off the fast-approaching tree trunk. Tree limbs tore at her body; catching and snagging her coat. A branch hit her thigh; the pouch on her leg taking the brunt of the impact, but not so much as to spare her from pain.

She grunted as she struggled to save Roy from injury.

As it was the archer grunted as he struck a heavy branch and spun helplessly. The strap of his quiver tightened on Artemis' hand and she cried out. It felt as though her hand was being crushed and her shoulder screamed in agony under his weight.

" _Wake up_! _Roy_! **_Wake up_** ," she shrieked before her breath was knocked from her when her back slammed into another branch.

Eventually, their spinning slowed and they dangled thirty feet above the ground. Artemis groaned as she assessed their situation. They were too high for her to let him go. She twisted about to check her line. It wasn't as anchored as she would like, she noticed. Her arrow had tangled in several limbs rather than wrapping itself securely around a branch or the trunk itself.

Almost in response to this realization, several twigs snapped off and she and Roy slipped another foot.

" _Roy_! Roy, I need you! _Please, wake up_ ," she yelled at him.

She couldn't tell if he were awake or unconscious. He would have been dead, however, if she hadn't shoved him off of the baggage car when she did. But how was this any better, she wondered.

Concern for her teammates flashed through her mind. Had Robin been able to catch Conner? Were they, even now, safe at the bottom of the bridge? Artemis almost gasped to realize that Robin could help them now. She angled herself in order to look in that direction, but visibility was terrible. She couldn't see them at all.

" _Robin_! _Conner_! I need your help," she yelled down to where she thought they might be.

Nothing! No sound other than the wailing wind and the raging river answered her.

Sudden concern that maybe Robin hadn't been able to catch the falling clone in time flooded her with fear. But what of the Boy Wonder? Shouldn't he have answered her?

" ** _Robin_**! **_Conner_**!" Was she alone out here? She tried her comlink, but she must have lost it when she had hit the tree.

More twigs snapped and her line slipped down several more feet. Artemis shrieked in response.

" _Roy_! Oh God, Roy, wake up," she screamed down at him. "I can't do this alone!"

The redhead was silent beneath her.

Artemis forced her breathing to slow as she considered her options.

One: she could drop the deadweight on her arm. She should be able to get herself down easily enough with her other arm free . . . But, she didn't think Roy could survive the fall from this distance. The ground was covered with several inches of snow, hiding who knows what dangers beneath it. A hidden rock might break his skull, or his leg, or possibly his back.

Okay, option one was out.

Twisting around, Artemis strained her eyes and could just make out a large tree limb near Roy's limp form. She was vaguely cognizant that he was already intimate with that particular branch, but it looked strong enough to support his weight.

Option two: she could use her legs to angle the other archer over that limb and maybe lay him across it long enough for her to release her line and make her way down to him. From there, Artemis felt certain she could figure out a way to lower the older teen to the forest floor gently. That would free her up so that she could climb down the rest of the way herself.

Option three: they could dangle until their weight eventually pulled her arrow free and then they would both fall thirty feet to the ground. In that case, they would both either be dead or so seriously injured that they would quickly succumb to the freezing temperature and die, either from their injuries or from hypothermia.

She had only one course of action that she could take.

Adjusting her boots against the trunk, Artemis pushed herself to the side; drawing the limp body of Red Arrow with her. She winced in sympathy as his head bumped the limb with a little more force than was perhaps good for him. She cried out in pain as she struggled to lift the larger figure those few inches necessary to position him across the tree limb.

Slowly, Artemis released the tension in her arm to determine if Roy would remain centered and balanced enough to release him, or if he would slip off as soon as she let go. Tears ran down her face; freezing to her skin before they could drip off of her chin. She tasted copper in her mouth from biting her lip.

Roy's body stayed put.

"Oh God," Artemis moaned as she carefully released the strap. Her hand alternated between throbbing and sharp, shooting pains. How much damaged had been done to it?

Not too much, she determined. She still had use of the hand, even if the pain guaranteed a weakened grip. She turned and adjusted the line on her crossbow. She had very little slack left. Just enough, however, to allow her to lower herself onto the limb next to Roy. She sat down heavily and struggled to catch her breath as she released the line from above.

Now, at least, she had the use of her weapons should she need it. And now that she was relatively safe, she turned her attention on her teammate.

What had Jade done to him? Artemis wracked her brain, but couldn't remember seeing her strike him with a poisonous dart. She could only assume her sister had drugged him, but couldn't think of how . . . Unless it was that kiss?

She had heard of Poison Ivy being able to kill or enslave with a kiss, but she didn't think Cheshire had any connection to the Gotham City villainess. Was he still alive? Relief struck her a few seconds later as her ungloved hand found the strong, steady pulse in his neck. Now, she only had to get them down from the tree and figure out a way to locate the others before they all froze to death.

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, when the growls grew louder than the wind and the river. She peered over the edge of her perch, but it had finally grown too dark to see that far. She tugged out her penlight from her pouch, relieved to find it wasn't broken.

That relief was short-lived as she shone the powerful beam toward the base of the tree.

Five wolves were circling it. Their eyes flashing as they reflected her light.

"Oh, great . . ." she groaned. She rested her head against the trunk of the tree. " _Now_ what?"

* * *

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	9. Into The Fire

**This chapter was LONG; so I decided to split it into two chapters. I will post one today and the other about this time tomorrow. (Approximately 4pm AZ time) A big thank you to jam2014 for being my sounding board for this one. You get the chapter a lot sooner because of her!**

 **Warning: Some Language, Peril . . .**

* * *

Conner gaped in disbelief. Robin had disappeared a second time beneath the dark, churning water of the river. All that was left was the grapple that the Boy Wonder had used to try to save himself. And he had almost succeeded, too!

His mind wouldn't accept it. _Refused_! The younger boy had risked his life to save Conner's. He couldn't be gone!

With renewed determination, Conner grabbed up the dangling grapple gun. It might come in handy. He fumbled with the controls and released the line, and then he took off once more along the river's edge; shoving the equipment into his pocket.

He could barely see. The snow was coming down heavier; the flakes were larger now. Already that on the ground nearly covered his boot; at least five inches with no sign of stopping. He stumbled over rocks and branches that lay hidden beneath the blanket of white. Several times, sharp twigs had slapped his face; cutting his skin.

A simple twig had broken his skin! It seemed impossible, but Conner knew it was a fact. He could feel the sharp stinging it had left behind across the side of his nose and cheek; another had sliced his forehead; one, his chin. Conner could still feel his face, but his hands were another matter. His fingers felt numb as he shoved off of trees in his path and swatted blindly at shrubs and bushes.

Ironically, his lungs felt like they were burning.

The vague outline of the baggage car loomed suddenly! He had almost passed it! The aluminum train car had appeared to have broken in half, and a portion of it was caught between two boulders only a few feet from the shore. He could see the shape of a tree jutting out from the bank nearby. But what Conner couldn't see, however, was Robin.

Terrified that the boy was crushed or trapped beneath the surface, the older teen didn't hesitate. He plunged into the icy current after him; gasping as glacial temperature stole his breath away. It nearly swept him off of his feet. Both boots were now filled as Conner trudged through thigh high water in his effort to reach the baggage car. Was this even the right half of the car?

" _Robin_!"

Other than the roar of the river, he could hear nothing.

"I'm coming," he yelled. He didn't know if Robin could hear him or not, but on the off chance that he could, Conner wanted him to know he wasn't alone; that help, such as it was, was on the way.

He knew the boy's cape had been snagged by the sharp edges on the end of the car where the blast had blown outward. Had he been crushed by the car or against the rocks?

" _Robin_!" Conner yelled. " ** _ROBIN_**!"

Conner was splashing through the water toward the end of the railway car nearest him when suddenly the river bottom fell away. Conner dropped beneath the surface of the water briefly before surging upward. The current had him now and drove him forward.

He didn't fight it only because it took him in the direction he wanted to go.

His hands slapped the side of the car. The current was nothing if not stronger here and Conner felt his boots slip as the water threatened to drag him beneath the surface; beneath the car. He grabbed at a piece of the railing that had lined the roof of the car, but his legs were thrust to the side and not even the cold could camouflage the sharp pain sheering up and down his leg. Conner cried out as part of the aluminum siding had just sliced deep into his thigh. The pressure of the current made him slide further as the metal ripped an even longer gouge into his flesh.

" ** _ROBIN_** ," he screamed; pain accentuating his fear.

He shoved away from the car in an effort to save himself. The metal tore at him even as the water yanked him free from it. He grunted; slamming into one of the boulders that had captured the baggage car. Conner grabbed on for all he was worth. The current pinned him against it.

Balancing himself against the rock, he ducked under the water to feel for his teammate. He was desperate to find the younger boy, but was simultaneously terrified that he would. What chance did Robin have of escaping an icy grave?

Something brushed his hand. A piece of cloth. Robin's cape? Conner gripped it; dragging it to the surface. The signature black and yellow material was hardly recognizable in the last light, but it was Robin's. He could see that the material had been cut through partway. Robin had obviously attempted to cut himself out of it. Gritting his teeth, Conner continued to haul up the weight on the other end of it as fast as he could.

Robin's pale face cleared the water. His lips were blue. Was he breathing? A thin dark line slithered down the side of his face from beneath the hairline. Robin must had hit his head at some point. Conner suspected that the injury was what had prevented him from succeeding in freeing himself. Right now, however, the boy looked dead, but Conner refused to accept it. He couldn't . . . He struggled to unfasten the cape and wrapped his arms around the smaller form; clutching him protectively to his chest.

He couldn't see the shore anymore from where he was at. Conner knew it was there, but he couldn't see as the light was finally consumed by the night. Or, he thought it had.

Ice was forming on his hair and his eyelashes. Maybe it was affecting his vision, but Conner thought he saw something glowing. It was snowing too hard to tell for sure. All he knew for certain, was that he needed to get Robin to shore. There had been a tree overhanging the river next to them, but he could no longer see it. If he stayed here any longer, however, Conner would end up joining Robin. As it was, he could no longer feel his feet.

The baggage car behind him creaked and groaned. It shifted under the strain of the current, letting out an ear-piercing shriek as it resettled into a new position.

Shifting Robin in his arms so that the boy was draped over his shoulder, Conner took a leap of faith and stepped away from the deceptive safety of the boulder. It was difficult. The force of the water prevented him from moving freely, but he inched his way to the side until the heavy rock curved away. He lifted a hand out blindly in front of him; searching for a branch or limb. Nothing!

Unable to stay where he was any longer, Conner lunged forward. The current immediately yanked him off of his feet, but his hand slapped against the rough bark of a branch and halted the current's attempts to sweep the two boys away.

 _So close_!

He was so damned close to the shore, but unable to get his feet back under him, Conner was stuck. Robin's dead weight shifted and his body threatened to slide from his grip. Conner clamped down on the boy's thigh to hold him in place, but without the use of his extra hand, how could he possibly get them to safety?

 _They were going to die_ . . .

 _ **He** was going to die!_

It didn't seem possible! Had he ever even considered that death might one day claim him? Maybe . . . but not so soon! He hadn't really lived yet!

Unexpectedly, a light appeared just a couple of feet from them. The white snow blurred his vision until abruptly, and a grizzled, ice-encrusted face materialized a few feet away on the shoreline in front of him.

"H-He-elp," Conner stammered. Was that his voice? It sounded so weak! Hardly the roar of earlier. What else was the cold stealing from him? "P-Pleassse, h-help us!"

"Dang! Appears you boys have gotten yourselves into a bit of a pickle," came a voice that sounded a lot like it had been gargling rocks.

"P-Pic-ckle? N-No sssir." Conner's teeth were chattering. "Th-The t-train . . ."

"Hang on, young-un. You can tell me all about it once we get you and your friend there safe," the old man interrupted him. "Don't you worry none. I got you now."

"R-Rob . . ."

The man clamped a rope around the trunk of the tree and attached a line to it that wrapped around his body; then he stepped out into the river. The water rose up above the older man's knees.

"Whooo-eeee, that's plum cold right there!"

Conner's eyes widened as his grip on the branch slipped. His hand was getting too numb to hold on for much longer.

"T-Take h-him," Conner cried out. "I'm c-can't h-hold on! T-Take him, p-ple-ease!"

Calmly, but quickly, the heavily bearded man wrapped a line around Conner's waist and cinched it tight. He ran the line to the secured rope next. He moved back to Conner.

"We're going to have to move quicker if we're going to get you out of this," the old man told him.

"T-Take h-him," Conner begged. At least one of them might get out of this, although Robin hadn't moved or groaned even once since Conner pulled him from the water. A tiny voice in his head whispered insidiously that his friend might be already dead.

"No worries, son. I've got you both," the man assured him.

The man then reached out and hauled the smaller boy from Conner's shoulder, and draped him over his own as a man might carry his own young son. Robin's head lolled on the man's shoulder lifelessly.

"I need you to follow me," he instructed. "Hand over hand. Can you do that?"

Unable to speak anymore, Conner nodded shakily. Their rescuer had Robin now. He'd get the younger boy to shore. The man would help him. Conner could do this as long as Robin was taken care of first.

The man slogged his way through the knee-high water at the river's edge and carefully laid Robin in the snow. Alarmingly, the snow covered him almost immediately. He turned and grabbed Conner's line just in time as the boy's grip slipped and the current pulled him downstream.

The man didn't panic, however, just began hauling Conner to the shore with long powerful movements. Hand over hand, he towed the boy to him until he could reach out and grab Conner's upper arm. A second later and he had the older teen sprawled next to the snow-covered mound that was Robin.

Conner struggled to his knees; sweeping the snow from the younger boy's face. Robin was pale . . . too pale. Blue tinged his skin in the weak light and his lips darker still. Ice and snow encrusted his hair and clung to the boy's mask.

" ** _Noooo_** ," Conner wailed.

"Don't go weeping and wailing just yet," the old man snapped. He had taken a moment to unfasten the ropes from the trees. "The cold can kill you quick, but sometimes, especially in the case of drowning, it can actually give you a fighting chance."

Conner watched as the man tugged Robin further from the river's embankment. He kneeled down and tilted Robin's head back; pinching his nose. The man blew in several breaths into the boy's mouth, and paused to rub his cheeks.

"He's about frozen solid," the man remarked. "We need to get you both back to the shack, then we can see what we can do for your friend here."

Conner's brain struggled to keep up, but their cover story suddenly flitted through his mind.

"B-Bro-ther," he stammered to the man. "H-He's m-my b-bro-ther."

The grizzled fellow hesitated as he looked at Conner and back at the masked face of the younger boy. "You don't say?" He shrugged as he accepted the lie with ease. "Family, eh? Well, now, I'd say that explains a lot," he said with a nod of approval.

He opened his large fur-lined coat as he climbed to his feet and lifted Robin in his arms smoothly, with hardly a grunt. He took a moment to wrap the edges of the warm outerwear around Robin as far as it would reach, and then he held out a hand to the older boy.

"Come on now, we have to move, or we might as well lay down here and let Mother Nature have her way with us," he coaxed.

"R-Right." Conner struggled to his feet. The old man's hand helped more than the clone would have liked to admit.

He took the line still wrapped around Conner waist and clipped it now to his belt.

"Just so I don't lose you," he told him. "Hate to have to explain it to your brother why I managed to save him, but lost you in the process." He nodded, satisfied at his work. "Now, we follow the line back to my shack. Quick now. I won't do you boys a lick of good if I freeze up out here, too."

Conner frowned. It was getting hard to follow what the older man was saying, but when the man turned and started walking, the rope around Conner tugged him forward and he stumbled after him.

"It's not far," the man yelled back over his shoulder. "Good thing, too. I might never have heard the almighty noise that train car made over the howling of the wind otherwise, and came out in this mess to investigate. Luckily for all of us that I left Cecil to keep the fire warm."

 _Cecil_? The name was lost to him as it was all Conner could do to put one foot in front of the other. He thought he was managing it, but he couldn't quite tell. He couldn't feel anything below his waist anymore.

His world consisted of swirling white, a hint of light, and Robin's snow-covered head where it rested on the old man's shoulder.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Don't kill me yet . . . You'll never know what happened to Roy and Artemis. More on that tomorrow!**

 ***Ooh, if you haven't seen it yet, check out my newest one-shot, "The Cowl". It's part of my young Dick Grayson series.***


	10. Sheltering From The Storm

**Hah! Sorry that this is a little bit late, but I was reading Bat-Wolf and lost track of time. LOL! Yes, I read my own work. I will often go back and make corrections when I inevitably find them as well. Anyway, I kind of got caught up with the story and forgot.**

 **Warning: Language . . .**

* * *

Artemis considered the arrows she had in her quiver. Moving slowly, so not to shift Roy's position in front of her, she removed her bow from where she had slung it across her shoulder. She chose the arrow she wanted with care. She only had two of these.

She aimed in front of the wolf that she'd identified as the alpha; praying this would work. While these animals were only half the size of Wolf, they were more than large enough to rend her and Roy limb from limb.

 _Damn it_! _Why weren't they holed up in their den somewhere_?

Artemis shook her head and blew out her breath in an effort to rid herself of her frustrations. It didn't help much, unfortunately, but she did get a better grip on her emotions. What was it Robin liked to tell her in times like these?

Oh, yeah . . . ' _Get traught or get dead_!'

One thing was for certain; if she and Roy didn't get out of this tree and find shelter quickly, they would both end up 'getting dead' within a couple of hours. The cold was seeping through her winter uniform the longer she was out in this crazy weather. It wasn't meant for extremes like this.

Had they known this would have happened, they would have brought their artic gear, but who would have guessed they would be stuck in the wilderness in the middle of a freaking blizzard? Who could have possibly predicted that the car they were in would be derailed and the winter storm of the century would hit all at once?

Artemis let loose her arrow and it slammed into the ground inches from the alpha wolf and immediately it lit up and sparks flew out in all directions. The alpha yelped and ran off; disappearing into the world of white. Its pack followed close behind; abandoning their prey for the safety of the surrounding woods.

The flare arrow would stay lit and sparking for anywhere between fifteen and twenty minutes.

Wasting no time, Artemis shot another line into the limb directly above her. This time the arrow burrowed into the wood with a reassuring thud. She pulled on it to be sure, and felt no give. The real test, however, would be when it accepted her and Roy's weight.

As quickly as her rapidly freezing fingers allowed, Artemis dug into her side pouch for the spare pulleys she kept for her bow. She was pretty sure she could jury-rig this so that she could lower Roy's weight to the ground this way and spare her arms any more unnecessary strain. Another minute and it was ready. She was pulling out the last of her line to secure Roy when he groaned.

"Oh, thank God! I knew I could get you down, but there was no way I would be able to drag your ass anywhere!" She slapped a hand down on his back to ensure that he didn't accidentally dislodge himself from his rather precarious perch.

"Wha-? What the . . . What the hell?" One of Roy's hands touched the lump on his forehead.

"Um, yeah . . . Sorry about that," Artemis apologized. "But on the bright side, you not dead."

"Unngh, it doesn't feel that way," he groaned, breathlessly.

Artemis winced sympathetically. It couldn't be easy breathing with a tree limb pressing into your gut. He started to push up from his position, and she shoved him back down. He obviously wasn't entirely with it yet.

"Hold up, or you'll end up splattered on the ground," she told him. "We're about thirty feet in the air."

His head swiveled around as he began taking in their situation. "How the hell did we wind up in a tree? Where the hell are we?"

Artemis shivered. Now that full dark was upon them, the temperature was plummeting even more so. "Hell's rather a long way off," she remarked dryly. "First off, we have to get down from here, preferably before my flare arrow is extinguished. I can explain what happened to you better from the ground. We still have to find some kind of shelter and locate the others."

"Others?" Roy's scowl changed into one of surprise. "Superboy and Robin! Where are they?"

"Obviously not here, else I would have already had you down before now," she snapped. "Do you think you can hold on well enough for me to lower you, or do I need to use the last of my line to arrange a sling of sorts?"

"Uh, no," he was back to frowning. "No, I'm good. I can get down on my own."

Artemis pursed her lips. "So much for my pulley system."

Roy, by this time, had readjusted his position so that he straddled the limb, facing her. He blinked the flakes off of his eyelashes as he took in her hasty construct. His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Hey, that's pretty clever!"

The unlooked for compliment made her smile a little. "Well, then, why waste it? Stick your foot here and grab on."

While Roy had been gaining his bearings, Artemis had tied a loop in the line.

"Smart," he commented. "Ladies' first."

"No way, bub," she smirked. "I started out saving your ass tonight. I'm damn well going to finish it! Climb on!"

He blinked at her and shivered; abruptly aware of the cold. "Right," he said, slipping his boot through the loop.

Artemis braced herself with a booted foot against the grainy bark of the tree and pushed her back into the trunk. At her nod, Roy allowed himself to slip off of the limb and then he was swaying slightly in the air. In seconds, he was stepping out of the loop and tugging on the line to let her know he was down safely. As he watched, she pulled the line back up, hooked her foot through the loop, and pushed off. Once down, Roy helped to balance her as she untangled herself.

Roy looked around but couldn't see more than a couple of feet in any direction.

"So, now what?"

Artemis gathered what supplies she could. Who knew how long they'd be out here? She couldn't afford to waste anything. She curled the line and caught the pulley as it fell; tucking them back into her thigh pouch.

"Now, we get out of here before the wolves come back," she stated.

Roy looked startled. "Wolves?"

"Five of them," she told him.

The flare seemed to be dying down a little. The sparks weren't shooting out as far as before. She tugged the arrow out of the ground and held it in front of her.

"Damn! I missed out on a lot." Roy rubbed the bump on his forehead again. "Last thing I remember was Cheshire's little explosives going off and Superboy . . ." He stiffened. "Superboy! That little bastard scientist shot him with that laser and took his powers! He fell off the bridge!"

"Robin went after him," Artemis reminded him. "I lost my comlink at some point, but I'm fairly certain they got down okay, but the baggage car was hit by another train going in the opposite direction."

Roy spun around to stare at her.

"Cheshire did something to you. Put you in a trance; drugged you . . . I don't know," Artemis shrugged helplessly. She still had no idea what it was her sister had done to the hapless archer. "But the train was coming and you would have died if . . . if . . ."

"You saved my life," Roy concluded.

"It was pretty hairy there for a while," she admitted. "I didn't know for sure if you were alive until I got both of us secured onto that tree limb." Artemis shrugged again, uncomfortable. "We should find Conner and Robin. I don't know what happened to them after Robin caught him."

"Robin. Conner? Answer me, damn it!" Either the storm was messing up their comlinks, or they couldn't answer him. Roy caught Artemis's shoulder as she moved past him. "You were right before. We need to find shelter first. I'm certain that Robin and Conner have already done the same. We'd stumble around lost in this mess forever without finding each other . . . That is, until we all froze to death. Come on."

Roy took the flare from her as his hand slipped down her arm to her hand; tugging Artemis behind him.

"Wait! Where are we going? We're out in the middle of nowhere," she yelled at him as they stepped out from the shelter of the surrounding trees. The wind quickly whipped away her words.

"Up," he yelled back over his shoulder.

He didn't let go, however. If anything, he clasp her hand tighter as he pulled her along behind him.

"Shouldn't we be going down?"

"We're in a pretty rugged area," he called back. "Lots of loose rocks and possibly a few caves. They would afford us a lot more protection than staying out here. I wouldn't be able to build a shelter in time before we both started suffering from hypothermia. And besides that, with this strong of wind, we would be in danger of being hit by falling tree branches."

Artemis struggled to keep up. It seemed as though Roy was part mountain goat; his boots finding the right places to step, but Artemis continued tripping over rocks and downed tree limbs.

"O-okay, right," she muttered, trusting him in this. She had no choice, really. She had no idea what to do next.

She tried to tug her hand free to help her balance while climbing, but Roy tightened his grip once more.

"Uh uh, princess," he yelled to her. "You don't let go of me! The wind is getting worse and the snow is coming down harder. Visibility is too bad. If we separate in this; we'd never find each other again."

"B-But . . ."

"No buts," he declared. "Just hang on to me. I don't want you to tumble over a drop off or into a ravine!"

Artemis' eyes widened in alarm. She staggered forward and grabbed the back strap of his quiver with her other hand. She'd just use Roy to keep herself upright.

"That's the way," he encouraged, and let go of her hand a moment to pull her up next to him. He slipped an arm around her waist and helped her climb over any obstacles. "It shouldn't be much farther. There's bound to be something up here!"

She gulped. "We better find it soon!"

"How about now," Roy suggested.

"Now? Now sounds good," she nodded as she watched her footing. "Now sounds like a plan."

Roy tugged her sideways and in a few steps the wind ceased abruptly as he put one hand on her head to keep her from connecting with the low ceiling of a shallow cave.

She blinked the snowflakes from her eyes and glanced around. Not really a cave, per say, but more of a hollow in the side of the mountain with several huge boulders providing some measure of protection. It was small; just enough room for two or three adults to shelter in.

Roy pushed her down. "Sit down before you fall down," he said. "Do you still have that extra line?"

 _What_?

"Yeah," she was already pulling it free. "What do you need it for?"

"This isn't enough to survive the night," he explained as he looped one end around her ankle. "We need to build a fire. For that, I need to go back out into the storm."

"Wait! _No_! You'd get lost," she exclaimed, fear taking root. She didn't want to die out here alone. What if those wolves come back? "How would you ever find your way back?"

"That's what the rope is for, princess," he reassured her. He tied the other end around his waist. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"Uh, yeah," she nodded, frowning. "You kind of do, don't you? How do you know what you're doing?"

Roy smiled and laughed. "I haven't always been a city boy. You rest right here and I'll be back in just a few minutes. I'll leave you the flare in the meantime."

"No, you take it," she insisted. "What if you run into those wolves I told you about? I have a penlight here." She removed the light next; turning it on. It wasn't much, but better than nothing, and much better than risking Roy's life.

* * *

"Very good," he praised her. Before ducking out, he looked her in the face. "How are you holding up?" She had done everything to keep them alive before he had regained consciousness, but now it was his turn to contribute.

"I-I . . . I'm doing okay," she said.

He frowned, and tugged her hood forward and checked to see if her coat was zipped up tight. Her cheeks should have been red or pink from exertion, but instead she looked incredibly pale.

"You don't sound okay," he muttered worriedly.

How long had they been outside? He wasn't sure how much insulation her winterized uniform provided. Her coat was thin. Roy's wasn't great either, but he was larger than Artemis. The cold took longer to affect him than it would someone her size.

It wouldn't take much for hypothermia to take hold. She sounded a little confused compared to how she sounded just fifteen minutes ago. He'd have to hurry.

"I'll be right back," he promised. "You stay warm."

Artemis laughed. "Warm . . . right. I'll do that."

Picking up the rope's slack, he ducked back out of their little shelter. He was extremely happy that they'd not found anything else holed up here first.

They were still in the tree line. Shouldn't be too hard to find some downed wood they could use to build a fire. It was so cold that he didn't think the wood would be too wet; even so, though, he had his methods.

The flare was dying down fast, he noted. It was no matter, though. He had his own penlight and there was still the rope that promised salvation. If nothing else, he could use it to find his way back to Artemis and their shelter in the dark.

Roy located a tree nearby and pulled out a small knife. With it he pried off a good chunk of bark and tucked it into his own thin, but well-insulated jacket. The inside of it could be scraped and the fluff it provided made for excellent tinder for a fire. He turned next to locate downed sticks and several larger branches. He would need to come back out in an hour or so and find more, but this should do well enough to start a decent fire. Heat was their number one priority at the moment.

The flare went out.

As he struggled with his bounty back to the rocky shelter in the dark, his thoughts strayed to Robin and Superboy. He didn't let on to Artemis how much he was worried about their teammates. He hadn't lied to her when he said it would be futile to search for them in this, however. Robin had a good head on his shoulders, though, and the Bat was paranoid enough to make certain that the younger boy was prepared for anything.

Despite this, he also was aware that Robin was a city boy . . . Rob was resourceful, it was true, but how prepared could he be for something like _this_? Even Roy figured that he would be lucky to get out of this without gaining a few blackened fingers and toes.

He had no idea how long this storm was expected to last, but in his experience, storms of this ferocity could last days, and rescue couldn't be expected until it passed. Even then, it would take a while for Batman and the others to locate them out here. He prayed that Robin and Superboy had found a place to hole up that could withstand the weather and temperature extremes for a while. No one would be going out in this anytime soon.

He stumbled into the hollow. His ears were burning, they were so cold. His lungs, too.

Artemis moved over clumsily to make room for him. She blinked sleepily at him, he noted in the dim illumination from her penlight.

"Uh uh, princess," he admonished. "No sleeping. Not right now, anyway."

He tugged off his gloves and smacked her face lightly. She responded with a growl; attempting to knock his hand away and missing. Roy frowned, and turned back to his stockpile. Heat would do more for her than any amount of talking.

He scraped the inside of the bark until he got a good size wad of woody fluff. He set it close to the entrance. There, the rocks around them would help shelter the fire from the wind, but any smoke would be able to escape. What good would it do them to have heat if they died from smoke inhalation or carbon monoxide poisoning because the fire didn't have enough ventilation.

Roy broke off the twigs and placed them around the fluff. He wanted a lot, but not so much that it couldn't get oxygen. He didn't want to smother it. He placed larger stick into a teepee form around this. Once he had it burning, he could add a few of the bigger pieces to it.

In his own pouch at his waist, Roy pulled out a spare arrowhead and a piece of flint. With a few expert flicks of his wrist, the fluff began glowing and then a small flame erupted. Before long, Roy had a small blaze going.

It was enough for now. He could rest a few minutes and conserve his calories. The back of their small den reflected the heat and soon he and Artemis would be toasty warm. He was fairly certain he could pull the two of them through this without too much difficulty.

But what about the others?

The worry niggled at the back of his mind as he finally allowed himself to relax for a few minutes. He hauled Artemis' sleepy form over against his side. She was either too sleepy or too out of it to complain, but as she warmed up, he was confident that her new amicable mood would end.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Can it be? Are these two actually getting along and working together? Will it last or will they be sniping at each other again by morning?**

 **I actually know several ways to start a fire, and scraping the inside of bark is a terrific way to get dry tinder when the weather is wet. Also, building or using a natural barrier as a reflective surface will make better use of the heat and keep you warmer. A fire in front of your shelter with a small wall built of stones or branches will prevent much of the heat from escaping. In this case, Roy was smart in positioning his fire safely and by staying between it and the back of the small hollow ensured that he and Artemis would remain toasty.**

 **I have other tricks, but I'm not sure if I will have the opportunity to share them all. We'll see . . . I'm scanning the two or three survival books that I keep on my shelf for research purposes for other great facts and ideas of surviving in the woods.**

 **As always, Review, Review, Review! ;D What do you think of the story so far?**


	11. Old Oily

**I would have had this up earlier, but my modem kicked the bucket. New one is on the way, but I promised this would be out no later than today, so here I am at the library posting this chapter for you. You cannot say that I'm not dedicated . . . ;D More soon!**

 **Oh, and you can thank jam2014 for the title of this chapter . . . Loved it so much, I just couldn't resist! :D**

 **Warning: Maybe Language (I honestly can't remember at this point.) . . .**

* * *

Conner had no idea how long they had walked. The snow was blinding and seemed to toy with his senses. Time and space had no meaning. Just one foot in front of the other. His eyes kept searching out the hulking shape of their rescuer and Robin's pale, pale face where he lay still as death.

He remembered what the man had told him; that the cold gave them time in which to save the boy. Had this happened in spring or summer, the Boy Wonder would have been already gone with no hope of revival. Flashes of basic first aid that Cadmus had programmed into his brain reassured him that the man hadn't been wrong in his estimate, but how much time did Robin have left before he was beyond help?

Conner suddenly bumped into the back of the man. He stumbled back and fell to one knee; one hand landing in the snow to prevent his collapse. Exhaustion lay across his shoulders heavily. His eyes drooped and suddenly the cold didn't feel so cold anymore.

If he could just rest for a minute . . .

A hand grasped his upper arm and dragged him bodily back to his feet. Conner's leg didn't want to support him, and he almost went down again; nearly dragging his rescuer with him.

"We can't have that," the woodsman was saying in his ear. "Up with you now. I didn't drag you here for you to give up outside my door."

Conner blinked and glanced around, but he couldn't see anything.

"Wh-Where . . ." He wheezed.

The man pushed him forward and there it was; a door. It was opened and the three of them stumbled inside. The old fellow turned and slammed the door shut behind them and slid a bar across it. He paused only to unhook the lead rope that had attached Conner to his belt, then he moved across the small room to lay Robin on the floor beside a cot.

 _Ah, God, the heat_ . . . He was so cold, walking into the tiny room was like walking into a furnace, but _oh, it felt so good_!

Conner gazed around the interior of the shack; and that was pretty much what it was. One room had a cot on one side with a trunk at the foot and a fireplace on the other. There was a table in the middle with a stool and two rustic chairs, one of which could rock. A small cupboard adorned the wall across from the door; on it was a bucket and ladle. The wall beside the door held a couple of stacked cages and three or four small traps. Lines, ropes, and a saddlebag hung on the pegs that lined the wall beside the door.

A fire was burning low in the small, stone fireplace. Cecil, wherever he was, hadn't done a very good job tending the fire, but it felt like heaven nonetheless. Conner sank to the floor where he was; his trembling legs unwilling to support him another second. There was a slight draft from the wind as it rattled the door and slid between the cracks, but nothing could compel the Boy of Steel to move from his spot.

"You need to start stripping those wet clothes off of you," the man told him without looking back. He was concentrating on Robin, and that was okay with Conner.

"Now then, let's see what we can do for your brother now that we don't have to worry about succumbing to hypothermia ourselves, what say you?" The man stopped only to remove his hat and coat, tossing them behind him on the floor. The snow on them quickly melted and formed a puddle.

His dark hair, liberally streaked with gray, was long and greasy. It was tied back with a simple leather thong. He wore a red and black plaid, flannel shirt tucked into a pair of worn blue jeans. He leaned over Robin; tilting his head back and once more blowing air into the boy's lungs several times. Quickly, he positioned himself and began chest compressions.

Conner struggled to stand up, but his legs refused to cooperate. His arms had begun shaking as his whole body started shivering violently. It took some effort, but he finally managed to pull his shirt off. He tossed it on the floor and asked their rescuer the question that had been plaguing him ever since he had first found the younger boy.

"I-Is . . . Is h-he dead?"

The mountain man grunted. "Not yet. Not in my book."

He continued the compressions for several minutes; stopping only to breathe for the boy. Conner scooted back to prop himself against the wall, and watched the actions being performed only a few feet away; feeling helpless.

Suddenly, Robin seized up, coughing water as the woodsman turned him on his side. The boy's face, he could see, had lost its blueish cast, although he was still extremely pale.

 _But_ he wasn't dead. Gratefulness washed over the clone and he slumped in his relief.

The man looked over at him and Conner was able to glimpse his face for the first time in the light. He appeared around sixty or more with heavy lines around his eyes and creasing his forehead. His beard was long and bushy and just as salt and pepper as his oily hair.

"He's not out of the woods yet, but at least he has a fighting chance," Old Oily (as Conner began calling him in his head) told him once the coughing fit had eased. "Now, how to get these clothes off of him?" He looked at Robin's tunic in confusion. He pulled out a knife that was the size of Conner's forearm.

"H-Hey! Wh-What are y-you doing?" He gasped in alarm.

Old Oily looked back at him. "He has to get out of these clothes or everything I just did is going to be a waste of time. I can't get him warmed up like this."

 _Oh_. "There are clasps on the front of his tunic," Conner sighed.

"You doing okay over there?" the woodsman asked him as he started working on the clasps. "You can't wear your wet clothes either."

"D-don't worry . . . about me," he answered.

"This is taking too long," the older man grumbled. He slid his knife beneath the edge of the tunic and in one swift motion sliced it open. "What's this stuff on his shirt? Looks like some kind of body armor," he muttered to himself.

In no time, Robin was stripped down to his boxers, and the extent of his injuries from the river became evident from the dark bruising that mottled his body. Old Oily slid his arms under the boy gently, and carefully lifted him onto the cot. He turned to a trunk at the bottom of the bed and tugged out several blankets and spread them over the boy. Then he turned to face Conner.

"Now then, let's see about you," he announced as he moved over to where Conner was still propped next to the door.

Old Oily kneeled down beside the clone and frowned at the slowly growing pool of blood underneath his leg. There was a jagged tear along the front of his pant leg, but the pants weren't stained . . . at least not from the front.

"What have you done to yourself, boy?" He grabbed each side of the pant leg and yanked hard exposing the ugly wound beneath the cloth. He blew out a breath, shaking his head. "If it hadn't been below freezing out there, you would have done bled to death, young un."

Conner gaped at the wound in shock. Now that he was slowly beginning to warm up, and now that he actually saw the damage, his nerve endings came alive with a vengeance. He sucked in his breath harshly. He'd seen terrible wounds on others, but never on himself. He always tried to tell the truth when he could, and was especially careful to never lie to himself. Seeing his blood slowly seeping out of the five inch tear in his thigh scared the life out of him.

"Am I . . ." he licked his lips nervously. "Am I g-going to die?"

Old Oily had gotten up after exposing the wound and was digging through the cupboard. He turned back with a small first aid kit; stopping only to pick up a small teakettle sitting on the hearth.

"I don't expect so, but you may be wanting to before we're done here," the old man told him with pursed lips peeking out from his bushy facial hair. He opened the kit and perused its contents. "The cold slowed your blood loss, thankfully, but now that you are warming up and blood flow is being restored, you are leaking a bit more. We need to stop it before you lose too much. 'Fraid I have no way to replace it out here."

The woodsman pulled out a needle and black thread. "I don't have nothing for pain except maybe some aspirin, but you can't take that while you are bleeding like that."

Conner frowned as he watched the older man threading the needle in front of him. "Why not?" He asked. His brain was insisting he knew this, but his thoughts were still foggy.

"Aspirin is a blood thinner," Old Oily explained. "It would make you bleed more."

"Right," Conner nodded. That sounded right.

"I'm going to need to clean this out. To do that, we're going to have to get these pants off of you. They're ruined anyway," he told Conner as he started unlacing the boy's boots.

After a few minutes, Conner, like Robin before him, was stripped down to his boxers.

"This water had been boiled before I heard that almighty ruckus outside," the man said. "The water's only warm now, but it's sterile."

As he poured the water over the wound, the pain of earlier flared as the warmth brought yet more feeling back.

"Wish I had some whiskey," the fellow muttered.

"For me?"

Old Oily laughed. "Well, I'll admit that I could do with a swig or two myself, but I was thinking that it might have helped clean your wound better and, if a few swallows didn't take away your pain, it might have at least helped you not to care."

Conner didn't ask what he meant by that.

"You look like a right strong fellow, though. If I gave you something to bite on, think I could stitch you up without having to worry about you punching an old man's lights out?"

"Go ahead," Conner told him. "I can take it."

Old Oily scowled. "If it's too much, maybe I can get some snow and numb it up that way."

Conner shook his head. "It'll be okay," he assured him, and prayed this wasn't his first outright lie.

"Well, then, I don't guess we should wait any longer," the man gave him a snaggle-toothed smile. "You might not want to watch," he suggested when Conner continued to stare down at what he was doing. But when the boy didn't look away, he shrugged and put needle to flesh.

Conner hissed and threw his head back against the wall with a bang.

The wound had started burning while it was being cleaned, but as the old man squeezed the two sides shut and shoved the needle through the skin, brand-new nerve endings he didn't know he had burst to life. But not in a good way, Conner thought as he fisted his hands and clenched his jaw. The woodsman continued to work quickly over him.

"Nnngh," he grunted. _It was too much . . . Too much_!

"Hang on," the old man coaxed. "Almost done . . . almost . . ."

He was panting now with his eyes squeezed shut. Robin's painful coughing had him squinting in the direction of the cot. The younger boy sounded almost like he was gargling. The thought crossed his mind that this wasn't a healthy sound. Better than the silence of before, but it promised trouble on the horizon.

"Done," Oily stated; leaning back on his heels. "I swear, boy, you have some mighty tough skin. That was like sewing leather."

Conner looked at the ugly black stitches that were lined up rather neatly all considering.

Lucky thirteen.

The old man wiped the area with a piece of sterile gauze, and then put the needle aside to sterilize before he returned it to the kit. He covered the wound lightly with fresh gauze and wrapped it up; tying the ends together.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Conner asked.

"Son, in case you didn't notice on your way in, it's a bit lonely up here in these parts. It takes a fair bit of hiking to reach the nearest town, and that's when Mother Nature is cooperating," Old Oily snorted; mildly amused. "No, boy, when you're your own best company, you learn how to handle these sorts of things for yourself."

"What about Cecil?"

The man shook his head ruefully. "It's unfortunate, but Cecil ain't much help in these kind of predicaments. A decent conversationalist, but plum worthless when it comes to doctoring." He stared into kit's meager offerings, and grumbled unhappily. "I think I'm running kind of low on things. I guess I'm going to have to plan another trip into town come spring."

"Sorry," Conner whispered.

He closed the kit with a snap and placed it onto the table as he returned the kettle to a hook over the fire. "Ain't you no nevermind," he told the boy. "It wasn't wasted. I'm just wondering if we won't be needing supplies sooner rather than later."

"Sooner . . ." Conner scowled. "You mean for _us_?"

"It's my fault," he shook his head. "I put off that which I knew needed done. Let's just hope I'm worrying for nothing; that we won't be needing what I don't have."

"Like what?"

"Like antibiotics, for one," he muttered as he placed the dirty needle in a bowl. "I still have a few back at my cabin, but none here." He blew out his breath heavily. "This storm blew in faster than Cecil and I expected, and is a hell of a lot stronger than anyone knew it would be."

"This isn't your cabin?" Conner asked.

Old Oily chucked. "Oh, no . . . I use this shack to overnight in when I'm out this way. Only way to have the time I need to get my work done. It's too far to hike here and back in a day and expect to accomplish anything."

He looked at Conner. "We weren't supposed to be down here, you know," he told the boy as he placed a couple of logs onto the fire. "Cecil and I were planning on heading back up to the cabin after I checked a number of traps and looked in on my pack."

"Your pack?" Conner asked, sleepily.

"Wolves," he explained. "See, I'm a wildlife biologist and I've been studying the wolves in this area for the past twenty-five years. I trap some of the animals when their population grows too great for the local environment to support and arrange for them to be transported to a new location. But this storm forced us to hole up here in the shack."

Once the fire flared back into life, the man dug out another blanket and laid it over Conner. "You think you can move or are you fine where you're at right now?"

Conner answered by huddling under the blanket.

The kettle started whistling, and Old Oily picked it up carefully and poured the boiling water into the bowl. He swished the needle around for a minute and then set it aside to cool. He produced a thermometer and stuck it under Conner's tongue.

"Ninety-seven," he grunted. "Not sure if that's good or not." He laid a hand across the boy's forehead. "You're almost back to a normal temperature already. You managed that pretty darned fast."

He moved back over to the cot to check on Robin; repeating his actions. Robin didn't even react, and Conner worried over that. Shouldn't he be waking up?

"Ninety-two," he grumbled. "Well, there ain't no call for it. We need to get you tucked in here beside him. Fastest, safest way to bring his temperature up," he explained when Conner blinked at him.

He helped Conner maneuver in behind Robin and the wall and then covered them both up again. The cot was made for a large man, and if Conner lay on his side, there was just enough room for the two of them. Adjusting Robin's head on his bicep, Conner shivered at the feel of the younger boy's cool skin against his own.

"You'll feel more comfortable once he starts warming up," Old Oily assured him; standing up and stretching.

He ran a hand through Robin's hair, thoughtfully. "I can feel a knot here," the old man noted, indicating a place hidden by the boy's dark locks.

"It was bleeding a little when I found him," Conner offered. "Is it a concern?"

"It doesn't appear too serious, but you can't always tell with head wounds," the woodsman acknowledged. "We'll know more when he regains consciousness."

Almost in response to their conversation, Robin began coughing again. He seemed to curl in on himself, and Conner gently pulled the boy closer to him.

"That doesn't sound good," Conner remarked, hoping that the older man would mutter something comforting to ease his worry.

Old Oily sighed. "The boy nearly drowned. I'm fairly sure he didn't cough enough water out earlier, but I'm hoping that carrying over my shoulder might have allowed some of it to seep out on the walk back here."

"Will he be okay?"

The man picked up his coat and hat to hang up on the pegs near the door.

"He might get worse before he gets better," he admitted reluctantly. "We've done all we can at this point. We can only wait and see now. We want to try and not to shuffle him around too much. Movement will hurt him at this point, so, now would be a good time for you to try and get a bit of shut eye."

Conner's eyelids drooped at the suggestion. But something niggled at the back of his brain. When it presented itself, he asked.

"Where is your friend, Cecil? He's not out in the blizzard, is he?"

Old Oily grinned suddenly. "Oh no, Cecil's just shy. He hid when he heard us come in."

Conner's eyes flitted around the small space. There wasn't another room except the one they were in. Certainly, there wasn't anything large enough to hide a full grown man.

The old man stepped over to a wicker basket next to the fireplace and gave it a gentle kick. Immediately a white fox popped its head up and chittered at him and squawked. It jumped out of the basket and wound its way around the man's ankles. Old Oily chuckled and picked up the animal. It rolled onto its back while in his arms, and the woodsman obliged by scratching his belly.

"That's right, Cecil," he murmured. "We're going to have guests for a little while. You need to do your part to make them welcome."

The fox squirmed happily now that his person was back safely. Old Oily sat down in the rickety, old rocking chair. It creaked under his weight, but stood fast.

Conner fell asleep to the howl of the wind rattling the timbers of the shack and the rhythmic creaking noises of the wildlife biologist rocking his pet in front of the fire.

* * *

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 **If it seems detailed to you, that's because it is! I researched this and even though 'Old Oily' wasn't able to do everything (not for lack of trying), he did the best he could with what he had. Poor Conner! Welcome to the human race, buddy!**

 **Did you expect Cecil to be a fox? Love Cecil . . .**


	12. Cold-Hearted

**And I'm back . . . Oh, I hadn't gone far. Just posting a not-so-little 3-shot called "A Little Help"; part of my Young Dick Grayson series. Thanks for being so patient or even not. I don't mind if you want to spur me on a bit. Remember that I update my profile regularly (every time I post, or every few days if I have real life going on) to let you know what's happening. It's right up there at the top of the page!**

 **Scroll down to see a list of my AUs and the stories posted within them - usually by chronological order within their timelines. I'll mark what's new, too, in case you missed something. Now, on with Derailment . . .**

 **Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

She was warm . . . So toasty. Her lips lifted into a smile as she settled back into sleep.

It was the little things that woke her up. The smell of wood burning and the crackling sound of a fire. She and her mother lived in an apartment. They didn't have a fireplace. A tiny crease appeared in her brow, but she didn't open her eyes. She was just too comfortable . . .

But not so comfortable that she didn't feel the pebble under her hip. Her bed might not be luxurious, but she was certain it didn't contain pebbles. Her smile turned down ever so slightly.

At least the pillow was comfortable under her head. It wasn't as fluffy as she remembered, however. In fact, now that she thought about it, it felt a little firm and a tiny bit lumpy. She scrunched her nose and adjusted her position.

She reached down to pull up her bedspread and discovered . . . _an arm_?!

Artemis' eyes flew open; unable to ignore or make excuses for that. She glanced down and realized suddenly that she was lying on the ground by a real campfire. The pillow beneath her head was, in fact, another arm . . . One that most certainly did _not_ belong to her! The one wrapped around her waist she followed up to discover the shoulder, torso, and head of one redheaded archer that until now she wasn't entirely sure she liked or trusted.

"Wha?" She scrambled into a sitting position and scooted back until she bumped into the rough wall behind her. "What the hell are you doing?"

Roy startled and looked around, but seeing no immediate danger laid back down; grumbling. "Too early. Go back to sleep."

"But y-you were sleeping next to me!" If she screeched just a little, who could blame her, really?

Roy tilted his head to look up at her. "This shelter is barely big enough for the both of us and a fire. Where else am I supposed to sleep? Sorry, princess," he said as he closed his eyes and settled down once more, "but I refuse to die from hypothermia for the sake of your modesty."

Abruptly the memories of the past twenty-four hours came home. Fighting her family, the derailed train car, saving Roy's life, the wolves, and trudging through a blizzard to find shelter. Things became a little hazy after that.

"Oh my God," she gasped as she stumbled to the entrance and looked out at . . . _white_! The entire landscape was completely and entirely white! The only color to be found was glimpses of tree bark that hadn't been coated with snow on the handful of trees that were barely visible. That and what existed inside their little shelter.

Looking down, Artemis saw a few pieces of wood that was tucked behind one of the boulders that protected their shelter. The fuel for the fire that Roy had braved the blizzard to collect last night. She frowned as she glanced at their fire and what was left. They had maybe enough for a couple of hours at most. She picked up one piece and started to add it to the flames only to have Roy grab her wrist and stop her.

He looked exhausted, but held firm.

"Sorry, princess," he told her. "We need to ration this. This shelter isn't big enough for a large supply even if I had the means to collect more."

"What do you mean by that? We can 't get more?" She glanced behind her at the winter wonderland that wanted nothing more than to kill them. "I could see a few trees out there."

"Do you carry a hatchet perchance somewhere in that costume of yours?" He asked as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

He had taken his coat off at some point. His red, long-sleeved, high-necked shirt was made of pieces of heavy armor plating attached to an insulated material to protect his vital organs. The material had plenty of give to allow free movement.

He knew she didn't. "I have a knife and arrows," she admitted.

He nodded. "I have a knife, too. The means to make a few more arrows by hand and repair my bow." He took off the pouch he carried on his waist and tossed it down between them. "I have a few things I can use that might help us in a pinch, but no hatchet. That means I have to collect what has already fallen to the ground which is probably wet, and whatever I can break off of the trees themselves."

Artemis looked at the items spread out on the ground and took off her own pouch to add the little she carried to it. One look outside at the bleak landscape and she knew rescue wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

"What about Superboy and Robin?" she asked. "Shouldn't we be out trying to locate them?"

Something uncomfortable crossed Roy's face before it took on a neutral expression. "I'd like nothing better, but it is more likely that we'd get lost and freeze in the process. We can't do anything until visibility improves more than it has."

"But what if they're caught out in this?" Artemis shoved down the flare of fear for her teammates.

The skin around Roy's eyes and mouth tightened, and he looked down and began organizing their tools of trade. He wouldn't look at her when he answered.

"Then they're probably already dead," he muttered, angrily.

 **"WHAT?!"** Artemis squeaked. "How can you say that without even going out there to look?"

"If you want to go out there in that mess and look for them, go ahead. It's your funeral," Roy challenged her.

"You're not even going to _try_? You are just going to give up," she snapped her fingers, "like that?"

Roy slammed his fist against the ground causing a little puff of dust to rise up.

 **"NO! NOT JUST LIKE THAT!"** He snapped his fingers in her face. "Rob's been my friend for over two years now! Do you think I _want_ to give up on him? Superboy might have had a chance if the effects of that damned laser wore off within the first fifteen minutes or so, but from what we know, that isn't the case."

Artemis blinked and slid down to sit in the dirt across the fire from him. Her eyes were huge as she listened to Roy's rant.

"The Bat's had to have trained Robin in basic survival skills, but the vast majority of that training would be for urban areas; _not_ the Canadian wilderness! If the two of them weren't injured . . . maybe," he ran a hand through his hair; making it stand up on end. " _Maybe_ , they were able to find shelter like we did. _Maybe_ , barring that, they made something to help protect them from the weather and plummeting temperature, but . . . we're going to have to go on the assumption that we're on our own here."

"So, are you saying that they have a chance or not?"

"I want to believe that they found a place like this to shelter in last night, but you had symptoms of second stage hypothermia by the time we located this place," he indicated the shallow cave with one arm. "I'm saying at this point, we can't know one way or the other. We're going to have to take care of ourselves and just hope they managed to do the same."

"That just sounds so cold-hearted," she complained.

Roy glared at her. He pointed to the opening beyond her shoulder. "Do you not see what we are dealing with? That cold out there? It will freeze more than your heart! This is survival at its most basic. There is no room for anything else. Anything else will kill you!"

Artemis was silent as she let his words sink in, and stared at the fire between them.

"So," she ventured softly after a moment. "What do we do now?"

"We survive, princess," Roy muttered.

She chanced a glance at him, and thought that maybe his anger was his way of dealing with his worry. In that, he was a lot like her, but they couldn't keep snapping and snarling at each other.

"I don't suppose you have a candy bar or some jerky stashed on you?" His voice was calmer now.

"Uh, no . . . I didn't think I'd need . . ." She stammered to a halt. "I guess I just didn't think," she ended lamely.

Roy nodded, but didn't bother contradicting her or agreeing. He took his quiver and opened a small compartment in the bottom of it. Artemis watched in surprise as he removed a small pouch and a silver flask. He tossed the pouch between them.

"Bon appétit ," he told her.

Frowning, Artemis opened it. Her eyebrows rose. "Jerky . . . and chocolate?"

"Protein and an energy bar," he corrected.

Her eyes darted to the silver flask. "What's in that?"

He twisted the top off of it and handed it to her. Artemis lifted it to her nose and flinched away from the harsh smell.

"Whiskey," she answered her own question.

"I'd pour it out, but we might need it later," he replied.

"To drink it," she murmured, knowingly.

He shook his head. "No, not to drink," he amended. "You don't want to drink alcohol when hypothermia is a possibility. The alcohol will make you feel warm, but will actually lower your body's core temperature." He took it back from her and put the lid back on. "No, we might need it in case one of us is injured and we need to disinfect the wound."

"Oh, I didn't know alcohol did that," she said. "Dropping your temperature, I mean."

He took the jerky out of the pouch, and laid it on top of his tool pouch. "Both of mine are waterproof. We can use this one to melt snow and to drink from." He handed her the jerky pouch.

"Can't we just eat the snow if we're thirsty?" Artemis asked. Roy seemed to know an awful lot about this stuff.

"Eating snow will lower your core temp, and make it easier to get hypothermia," he explained. "We have to melt it first. The snow is pristine. It shouldn't cause us any problems, so we won't have to boil it first."

Artemis wrapped her arms around her knees. "Good to know."

Roy picked up a slice of jerky and bit into it; his teeth tearing off a hunk of the tough, dried meat. He picked up another piece and handed it to her.

"Eat," he instructed. "It is important to get calories in you and give your body something to burn in order to keep you warm."

She hesitated for only a second before taking the strip from him. She struggled to bite off a small piece and chewed. It had a pleasant taste, even if the texture left something to be desired. After she swallowed, she commented.

"There isn't a lot there. It won't last us very long."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock wall behind him. "Hm. Then I suppose I'll have to go hunting and see what I can find before we run out."

"You know how to hunt, too?"

For the first time since they woke up, a smile flitted across the redheaded archer's face. "You'd be surprised what I know how to do, princess."

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Artemis asked another question; since Roy was willing to talk . . .

"Did Ollie teach you all of this?" She indicated everything around her; the fire, the food, the knowledge.

Roy looked at her and grinned; the food doing much to improve his mood. "No, actually. I already knew this before I ever met Ollie. But, that being said, it is only fair to tell you that he knows how to do all of this, too."

"Really? He never said as much to me about it. He always seemed like such a city boy, you know?"

She didn't know whether or not to feel upset about that. Oliver Queen's training consisted of archery, and some hand-to-hand, and how to use her bow as a weapon. Much was just a refresher course from what her own father had taught her, but she admitted that there was some tricks he had that had surprised her; trick arrows were only part of it, apparently.

"There are some things he doesn't like to talk about," Roy murmured.

That was news to her! Ollie tended to talk her ear off when they went out together or trained one-on-one. It rather drove her to distraction. Her dad wasn't nearly as chatty as Ollie was.

"What about you, then? Do you mind talking about it?" Artemis asked between nibbles. "How did you learn all this stuff?"

"There are some things I don't like talking about either," Roy told her, standing and picking up his jacket. He had to duck down so as to not hit his head as he shrugged the coat on and zipped it up. He picked up his quiver and bow next.

"Where are you going? It's still snowing out," Artemis exclaimed.

"Like you pointed out, princess. The jerky won't last long." He swung his quiver over his shoulder and clipped the belt to secure it. His bow went over his other shoulder.

"Y-You're going to hunt now? But how will you find your way back?" She really didn't want to be stuck her alone. It was obvious to her that she wouldn't last long out here without Roy's help.

He was reattaching his pouch to his hip, but paused to answer her. "With this," he said and pulled out one of his arrows. It had a tiny homing beacon on it. "I usually use this to track the bad guys, but in this case, I'm going to use it to find my way back here."

He stabbed the beacon into the dirt next to the entrance.

"Is it something that Robin or Superboy might be able to find? Could M'gann or the League be able to pick the signal up?" She was really hoping for some good news.

Roy peered out and then looked back at her; not unkindly. "I don't see how; not in this storm, and not surrounded by these mountains. Maybe once the skies clear; after they realize that we're not on the train . . ."

"B-But that could be _days_ away from now," she squeaked.

"Exactly," he told her. "So, we're going to have to be smart if we want to be alive when they show up to rescue us." He pulled up his hood. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"I would suggest stay warm," he smirked at her; showing he wasn't leaving still upset with her. "Feed the fire no more than two of those heavier branches while I'm gone," he instructed. "If I can, I'll bring more back with me."

He turned to leave, but paused long enough to look back over his shoulder. "I'll keep an eye out for Robin and Superboy while I'm gone, but don't get your hopes up. If they're smart, they're holed up somewhere safe and warm; waiting for a rescue the same as we are. Oh, and under no circumstances are you to leave here before I get back! I'll be tired and freezing when I return, and the last thing I'll want to do is go back out searching for your ass."

"You wouldn't just assume I was dead, and leave me to my fate?" She snarked sarcastically, but at the look of fury that crossed his face, she immediately regretted her words.

"Shoot! I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean it," she sputtered, but he was already gone.

 _Well, damn_ . . . She really stuck her foot in it this time. And here she had called _him_ cold-hearted.

Sighing, Artemis moved back into their little den. It was warm in here now. She took her own coat off and folded into a pillow. After eyeing the condition of the fire, Artemis lay back down and closed her eyes. Suddenly that too small compartment on the train looked really good to her right now.

* * *

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 **Oh, and the survival information I included is accurate by the way. Just FYI.**


	13. What Happens Now

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

The noise of metal rattling woke him up, but it was the pain that kept him awake.

Conner opened his eyes and found himself staring into the face of an animal. He blinked and his memories caught up to him. Cecil was sitting curled on his chest staring down into his face. When he attempted to lift his head to look around, the little fox darted away; leaping from his perch atop of Conner's chest and onto the wooden floor of the shack. He raced over to the woven basket next to the fireplace; disappearing into its depths.

The crusty, old woodsman turned from where he was tending a pot over the fire and noticed him.

"Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, young'un," he practically bellowed at him. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Conner groaned. "It's morning?"

"Well into it, in fact."

Old Oily made his way over with a mug of something hot. Conner could see the steam rising up from it. It reminded him that he was hungry . . . sort of.

He started to move and noticed a weight on his arm; followed by warm pressure of a smaller body pressed up against him. He glanced down as saw the dark head of Robin. The younger boy was tucked up tight against him. The cot they were on wasn't small, but there wasn't a lot of room for two on it.

Worry immediately set in.

"Is he . . .?" Conner glanced up at the grizzled man who now hovered above them.

"He's alive," Old Oily remarked. "His temperature is up now."

No joke. Now that Conner was conscious, he could tell that he was so warm because of the heat radiating off of the smaller boy.

"Fever?" He asked, although it was rather obvious.

The woodsman nodded. "Low-grade at the moment, but higher than it should be."

Robin's breathing was labored still and sounded like . . . crackling? Was that right? That couldn't be normal! He had never heard anyone's breathing sound exactly like this.

"What's wrong with him?" Conner leaned over to see the boy's face and was startled by the swath of bruising that covered it from his hairline, along the temple, and stretching out across the cheek and jawline.

His mask had also been removed at some point during the night as they had slept. Conner felt a moment of panic, but the woodsman didn't ask after it or seemed to pay it any mind.

"Pneumonia would be my guess." The man didn't sound surprised. "I expected that would be the case after breathing in a lungful of river water." Oily traced a line over Robin's face. "That bump on his head was a bit more than what I expected, however."

Fear stabbed Conner in the chest. "Is it bad?"

"It isn't good, but he was moving around and muttering a bit ago, so I ain't quite so worried as I was when the marks first began showing up." Oily set down the mug and reached for Conner's arm. "Here now, let me help you sit upright, and you can drink yourself some breakfast."

Conner would have liked to refuse his help, but found himself astonished when he couldn't find the strength to push his own body weight up. He allowed the old man to assist him into a sitting position; careful not to jostle Robin too much in the process. Oily helped him replace his arm with the pillow beneath the boy's head.

Robin moaned slightly at the movement, and despite the painful sound he made, Conner felt relief rush through him. He hadn't heard a peep from the boy since he had fallen into the river yesterday evening. More proof that Robin still lived. Conner would take what he could get.

Old Oily handed him the mug. "Don't go drinking that just yet," he warned. "I want to get your temperature before you go swigging that down too fast for your own good."

Conner opened and closed his mouth obediently as the man slid the thermometer under his tongue. He might have waved the old fellow off had he felt in any way normal, but he remembered getting struck by that red sun laser yesterday all too well, and now . . . He ached all over. The pain in his thigh pulsed in a way that made his stomach turn.

And he was tired. Even after sleeping away the night, Conner barely had the energy to hold the mug of . . . He peered inside. Broth? It smelled good . . . sort of. His head hurt, taking away any enjoyment the thought of eating might have brought him, and his stomach twisted slightly in another direction in a way Conner found distinctly disconcerting.

Oily pulled the thermometer out and read it expertly in the dull, gray light.

He grunted. "Ninety-nine. Higher than normal, but nothing to get worked up over yet." He nodded at the mug. "Go on now. You need to get something in your belly."

Conner lifted the drink to his lips and took a cautious sip. The heat soothed his throat and soon after, his stomach.

"It's good," he commented politely.

Oily laughed, and Cecil popped his head out of the basket, curiously. "That's just because you're hungry. Cecil constantly bemoans my cooking skills, don't you, boy?"

At the sound of his name, the fox hopped out of the basket and pranced across the floor to curl around the grizzled, old man's ankles like a cat. He bent and picked up the animal; cuddling it like an infant as he scratched its belly. Cecil twisted suddenly and leapt to Oily's shoulder; wrapping itself around the man's neck like it was some woman's prized fur stole. Cecil chittered at him; content in his new perch.

Conner's mouth twitched up at the sight.

Oily's rough fingers scratched at the fox's ears absentmindedly. "Drink up while you can. In this weather, you need the calories."

"What about Rob?" Conner asked cautiously.

"You first," Oily's eyes tightened a bit as he gazed down on the younger boy. "Then we'll see if we can't bring him around and coax a bit of broth down him."

Conner took another drink; relishing the warmth pooling in his belly, but it wasn't enough to prevent him from noticing the older man's reactions.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Conner dropped one hand onto the boy's head lightly; running his fingers through the dark locks.

Old Oily grinned at him, then, showing off a mouth full of scraggly teeth; the result of years without proper dental care.

"Let's not go borrowing trouble now, young'un. Only time will tell."

* * *

Despite his hunger, Conner could only drink half of the mug. It surprised him that he had gotten full so quickly. Usually only Kid Flash could out eat him, but then again, Wally could out eat anyone!

He was sleepy again afterwards, even though he had slept all night. Conner didn't have to sleep more than a few hours per week on average, and yet now even staying awake for an hour was challenging. It seemed to him that the laser had stolen a lot more from him than just his strength and invulnerability.

The thought caused him to glance down at Robin. The boy had done nothing at all but sleep since his brush with death. Perhaps, healing created the need to sleep longer hours. He struggled to recall the basic first aid that Cadmus had programmed him with, but it was difficult to concentrate. His mind wandered from thought to disjointed thought with no rhyme or reason to it.

Old Oily moved the stool next to the bed and set another mug on it.

"Are you ready to help me with this?" He asked as he moved to pull a fur out of the trunk at the foot of the bed.

"What do I need to do?"

"For starters, you can lean up for me," he instructed.

Conner obliged, and the older man shoved the fur behind his back; helping support him in a more upright position.

"We need to sit him up for this," he told him. "You are going to have to support him and hold him up for me. Your brother will be far too weak to do this himself."

"Right," Conner agreed. "Right. Hold him up," he repeated nervously. Robin appeared so fragile at the moment, Conner was afraid he might hurt him.

"You ready? Here we go," Oily murmured as he grasped Robin under his arms and hauled him bodily into a sitting position, and then leaned him back against Conner's chest.

Conner wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, and Robin's head lolled limply on his shoulder. Oily grasp his jaw with one hand to hold him firm, and tapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Okay, son, it's time to wake up now. You're sleeping the day away," he called loudly. He glanced up at Conner. "What did you say his name was?"

"Robin," Conner told him.

Technically, he was supposed to go by Robert for the mission, but he was afraid that Robin would be too confused to react to the name. Better to go with something more familiar. It was a risk, but the man already saw the boy's uniform and hadn't recognized him. Maybe Old Oily had never heard of the boy hero out here.

The older man didn't bat an eye, but began using Robin's name to gain his attention.

" _Robin_!" He was practically yelling into the boy's face. "Robin, quit lazing about! It's time to eat, son. Wake up!"

For a long moment, he got no response, and then when Conner had begun to despair, Robin's eyes flickered open.

"Batman?" Robin murmured before falling into a coughing fit. It ended on a whine.

Conner's breath caught. _Crap_! He didn't consider that by using the boy's alias that Robin would respond by calling out his mentor's name. His eyes flew to Oily's face. The older man looked confused for only a second and then resumed calling to the younger boy.

"Son, I need you to look at me," Oily told him sharply. It was an order designed to illicit a response. It worked.

Robin blinked at the man in confusion. "Who . . .?"

"Don't you worry about that none, son. I'm a friend," Oily assured him. "Now then, how about you telling us your name."

 _Uh oh_!

"His name is Robin," Conner answered for him. The boy was so out of it, Conner wasn't sure what he'd say. Hopefully, he wasn't so far gone that he couldn't take the hint. "I told you that. He's my little brother."

Conner felt Robin stiffen in his arms ever so slightly. Message received.

Oily, however, looked up at him annoyed.

"I need to figure out whether or not he has a concussion," he snapped, though not unkindly. "He needs to answer the questions I ask him himself."

"Sorry," Conner murmured.

"Well, his pupils look okay," Oily rumbled. "What do you remember, Robin?"

One of Rob's hands slipped up to feel his face. Conner patted his arm in an effort to reassure him, but didn't know how much comfort the boy took from it. His mask was gone!

"I-I . . .can't . . . Um, the train?" Robin croaked and then erupted into another coughing fit. His hands clutched at Conner's arm where it crossed over his chest. As he attempted to regain his breath, Robin twisted in discomfort; groaning as his movement caused yet more pain to explode throughout his body.

"Easy," Conner murmured in his ear. "I'm right here. I've got you."

"Hurts!" Rob's voice sounded hoarse; like he's been gargling gravel.

"I know. I'm sorry." His words probably sounded like sympathy to the old man, but they were really an apology. He hadn't been able to get to Robin fast enough to save him from the river . . .

He might not have needed saving, if Conner had just dodged the laser in the first place. None of this might have happened, if he hadn't have screwed up. This was all _his_ fault!

Robin understood. "Not . . . your . . . fault," he wheezed.

 _But it was_.

In the end, Robin answered enough questions to satisfy their makeshift doctor, but only managed to drink a few small sips of the broth before Oily gave up and set the mug aside.

"Better than nothing, I suppose," he muttered. "We'll try again later. You need help laying back down?" He asked.

"Rob breathes better sitting up," Conner remarked.

"True, but you'd rest better yourself if you at least recline a bit," Old Oily insisted.

"Rob breathes better sitting up," Conner repeated.

Oily harrumphed, but didn't disagree.

"Let's compromise," he suggested, and took the fur out from behind the older boy.

Conner relaxed back. It did feel better. His eyes drooped, but he didn't want to fall asleep while Robin was still awake. What if the boy needed something from him?

"Your brother's already asleep again. Why don't you join him?" Oily told him; seeming to realize Conner's predicament.

Assured that the younger boy was currently resting as well as could be expected, Conner allowed himself to close his eyes.

 _Just for a minute_ , he told himself right before the darkness engulfed him and sleep dragged him under.

* * *

The snow was nearly to his knees when Roy exited the shelter. Slogging through it helped to dispel the anger boiling at Artemis' last snide remark. Her assumption that he didn't care about the lives of their teammates had hurt in a way that was almost physical. He rubbed his chest with his fist as he made for the tree line.

He had to be hyperaware of his surroundings. He didn't know this area at all. He was in a true wilderness here, and the snow could be hiding anything. One wrong step could send him plummeting down a ravine or could break his leg; either would spell certain death.

He sighed. And not just for him, apparently. While Artemis was a competent archer and her loyalty to her teammates noteworthy, it had become obvious that she was most definitely a city girl. Roy knew without saying that if he perished out here, so too, would she.

Why hadn't Ollie thought to teach her how to survive in the wild? Roy knew that the team had had missions in the desert of Bialya and in the jungles of Santa Prisca. It was prudent to train her to survive should she become separated from her team. Ollie couldn't assume that Robin, Kid Flash, or one of the others would always be around to have her back.

Roy blew out his breath. He knew he wasn't being completely fair to the man. He didn't doubt that Artemis could manage a night or two in the wilderness just fine in normal circumstances.

He stepped into an indention in the landscape, and suddenly found himself waist deep in a snow drift. He grunted as he forced his way through to the other side.

This was anything, but normal, however.

Hell, Roy didn't even know for sure if Ollie, himself, even knew how to survive in a blizzard. Although Roy had once been forced to survive for a few days during a winter storm that had been before the advent of Speedy, and it had been nothing like . . . **_this_**!

Making it into the trees made it easier to walk, but the danger remained. Not only would he have to watch his step, but he would have to watch overhead for falling branches. The creaking was ominous as the branches bent under the heavy weight of snow. Visibility increased, however, and Roy decided the advantages outweighed the risks. He prayed he wouldn't have cause to regret his decision as he wend his way through the trunks.

The likelihood he would find tracks were slender. Most animals would prefer to hunker down and wait out the storm. He didn't blame them, actually, as he would love to be doing the same thing . . . in a ski lodge, around a fire, surrounded by a dozen snow bunnies, he smirked.

The brush was thick here.

Roy pulled out one of his regular arrows. He always kept a few. Threading it onto the string, he prepared for whatever nature might gift him with. Brave Bow had taught him to be respectful of the land and grateful to the spirits of those animals whose lives he took in order to survive.

The unusual pang of homesickness stung. Roy seldom thought anymore of the Navajo medicine man who had taken him in after his own father had died in a forest fire so many years ago. Guilt for that fact made the sting more of an ache. Brave Bow had taught him everything he was now using to get him and Artemis through this debacle of a mission. If he survived, Roy knew he would need to take a trip back to the reservation in order to thank his guardian's spirit for his continued guidance.

He let his legs brush up against the heavy undergrowth of a thicket. As hoped, a white rabbit shot out from under the brush. It was more instinct than aim that the arrow caught the animal through the throat. It had died instantly. Roy knelt and gave thanks to the rabbit's spirit for sacrificing its life that he might live.

It had been years since Roy had deliberately killed another living creature, and he discovered that, although he had lost the taste for the thrill of the hunt, his mouth suddenly watered for the taste of roasted rabbit. He picked it up and looked at the animal critically. It wasn't much for two people, but was it worth remaining out in the weather longer in search of another rabbit?

His growling stomach decided him. He would see what he could find in the next fifteen minutes. If nothing else presented itself, Roy would skin the animal here and head back to the shelter; certain that Artemis would have a heart attack if he did the cleaning there. He snorted softly at the image. She wouldn't have to worry, however. There was a pack of wolves in these woods. Last thing they needed would be for him to attract the hungry pack back to their shelter by gutting it nearby.

Roy tied the rabbit to his belt, and moved on.

He was in luck . . . Thirty minutes later, he was following the signal of his homing beacon with two skinned and cleaned rabbits. He was getting too cold. His fingers were losing a bit of their feeling despite the gloves that protected them from the elements. His lower legs were becoming numb from tromping through deep snow.

He paused only to break off a few dead branches from some of the trees. The longer he could go without having to venture out again, the better. He needed time to thaw and dry off. He didn't want to risk frostbite this early in the game. Roy knew in his gut that this storm, although not as severe as it had been the night before was a long way off from blowing itself out.

He had no doubt that people would be searching for them as soon as their disappearance was discovered, but that wouldn't happen for another couple of days; when the train pulled into Prince Rupert without them. He had activated his emergency beacon last night as soon as he had deposited Artemis in the cave. He didn't know if Artemis or the others had also, but at least his was working. The battery held a charge that would last for sixty days once activated.

Now, if only the mountains and the storm wouldn't prevent its signal from reaching help. Roy didn't hold out hope that such a thing would happen before the storm finally passed through, and even then, it might not be detected until help was directly overhead.

He checked his homing beacon again. Twenty yards further . . .

He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Robin or Conner while he had been out. He hadn't expected to, honestly. He didn't think Robin would have been foolish enough to look for shelter in the trees. He would have liked to have made his way back to the bridge to search for them. Despite what he had told Artemis about the unlikelihood of finding them, Roy wanted nothing more than to have searched out his teammates, but his priority had been food and fuel.

What good would he do them if Roy only managed to die in the process of looking for them? He hadn't lied to Artemis . . . Their survival had to come first, as hard as that would be.

 _Once the storm passes_ , he promised himself. In the meantime, he prayed the two younger boys survived until he could get to them.

 _They had to be okay_. . . Roy had far too few friends as it was to go losing them now.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **No one's dead . . . yet(?)**

 **No worries - I warn you ahead of time if that was going to happen. A slight reprieve, but the storm isn't finished with them yet, and luck can only take you so far.**

 **I managed to add just a touch of Roy's beginnings. Not sure if I'll get the opportunity to share how it was he met and became Oliver Queen's ward and Green Arrow's protégé, Speedy. Keep reading and we'll see if I can fit it in without sounding like I'm siting history facts.**


	14. A Change in Condition

**Warning: Maybe One Little Word . . .**

* * *

The coughing woke him up.

Robin's eyes roamed the tiny room in which he lay. He had no idea how he had gotten here. All he knew was that he was warm and dry. This and that he hurt all over.

The room was nothing more than a shack, really. There was one window in the wall next to the door. It was small and there was shutters closed against it, but a small bit of dull light eked through between them. It was daylight, but was it the next day or had days passed him by. That he didn't know told him a lot about his condition. The pain, however, assured him that not too many days could have passed by and his body not have healed somewhat.

He peeked down at his chest. His uniform had been removed at some point, and he could see some bruising along some of his ribs. Dark. Blue and purple, but with hints of a healing green color. More than a day, but not much longer than that.

He saw a table and a couple of chairs, a cupboard, and a fireplace that took up most of the far wall. The space beyond the foot of the bed had a number of stacked cages and a few traps. He frowned, and wondered how Conner had found this place. He had a vague memory of someone feeding him some broth. A grizzled older man, who, as Robin looked around the shack once more, seemed to be missing.

The last thing he could remember clearly was the fight between the team and Sportsmaster and Cheshire. After that, was just a jumble of tangled images and an accompanying feeling of panic. The two criminals had been transporting a scientist and a weapon of some sort. A-A laser rifle that shot a red beam of light . . . Robin caught his breath, and immediately started coughing again. The deep ache in his chest flared, and suddenly the Boy Wonder felt like he was being crushed in a vise.

The door banged open while he was in the throes of his coughing fit. Had it been Sportsmaster or Cheshire, he would have been completely helpless to do more that squint at them through watering eyes. Snow and freezing wind washed over him; stealing what little breath he had left. The bright white light that poured in was abruptly blocked when the door was slammed.

A bear of a man with a heavy beard was stomping the snow from his boots. He carried a load of wood over to the fireplace, and then shrugged off his coat; hanging it up on a wall peg near the door. He walked over to kneel down next to Robin; leaning in close and smiling.

Robin couldn't do more than pant at him. He hadn't any strength before the coughing fit, and now his eyes roamed over the face of his host curiously.

"Who . . .?" The word was as insubstantial as a wisp.

He nodded, knowingly. "Don't remember me, do you?"

It was a struggle to shake his head. God, when had he ever been this weak?

"I plucked you and your brother out of the river night before last," he explained. "Cecil and I were caught up here in the storm, see, and had just burrowed in to wait it out when we heard this awful ruckus." The man nodded sagely. "Needless to say it alarmed the both of us because the wind was a howling to beat the band."

 _Cecil_? Robin tilted his head, but no one had followed the woodsman into the shack that he could see; and he could see practically everything.

The man paused in his storytelling to look behind him and give a whistle. Suddenly Robin noticed movement out of the corner of his eye; a basket in the corner near the fireplace. A white head with big ears popped up; followed by a white furry body as it leapt out of its hiding place and scurried across the floor toward them.

Robin's eyes widened when the fox jumped up onto the bed and then climbed up the woodsman's arm to nestle in around his shoulders; draping down like a scarf. It blinked dark brown eyes at him from its place of safety. Despite his weakness, Robin felt his lips lift in a smile.

"This is Cecil, by the way," the man introduced his pet. He scratched the top of the fox's head and around its ears. The animal practically purred with contentment.

"He's cute," Robin told him breathlessly.

And then something flitted through his mind that the man had said. _His brother_? Robin abruptly recalled that Conner had been traveling undercover as his brother during their mission. The red beam! It had somehow stolen his powers!

"Su . . . _Conner_!" Robin gasped; attempting to sit upright. The pain was intense, and he collapsed back with loud moan.

"Easy there, youngster," the man held his shoulders as another coughing jag overtook the boy. "Take it easy, now," he crooned.

"I can see you must have literally just woken up or else you would have realized your brother was just behind you," he tsked lightly.

 _What_?

Robin turned his head and saw that the man had spoken the truth. Conner lay between him and the wall. He looked asleep, but the clone seldom ever slept, and when he did, he woke easily. The boy recalled how violently his coughing had been and how loud the woodsman had been upon reentering the shack. Superboy shouldn't have been able to sleep through all of that!

"Wha . . . What's wrong . . . with him?" He panted.

"Fever," the woodsman told him.

Robin looked back at him. The look on the man's face told him just how serious the situation was. Robin leaned back and raised an arm to touch his friend. The limb lay awkwardly from his position across the bared chest and flushed face of the Kryptonian clone. The heat that arose from the older boy's skin felt almost blistering. Robin pulled away; alarmed.

"H-How?"

"When I found you, your brother was attempting to pull you from the river. Those waters almost claimed the both of you that evening. He must have gotten his cut on the jagged edges of the railcar. I tried to clean it up before I stitched it up, but without antibiotics to fend off infection . . . Well, best I can do now is just try to hold off his fever."

Robin gaped. "A cut?" _A mere cut could do this to Superboy_?

The laser rifle had stolen more than Conner's strength, then. It had stripped away his invulnerability. And that realization brought back more memories of an overheard conversation. While being affected by the laser; the Kryptonian could not only be injured . . . He could be killed! Conner could _die_!

"It's worrying, I'll admit," the man was saying. "Now that I no longer have to worry none about his bleeding out all over my floor, I've been giving him aspirin to reduce his fever, but it ain't cutting it. His fever just won't go down but by a degree or two.

"You, on the other hand, are looking downright chipper compared to yesterday." He took an old-fashioned thermometer from the cupboard and placed it in Robin's mouth. "Your fever seems to be much better today. Even your cough sounds less wet than it did last night."

After a few minutes, the thermometer was pulled out and read.

"One hundred," he muttered. "Not gone, but an improvement all the same. Something to be thankful for. If you're feeling up for it, I can sit you over in the chair by the fire. It might make it easier for you to breathe, and I can get you some warmed broth. Now that your fever is down a bit, you might be feeling hungry?"

Robin's stomach rumbled at the mention of food. "Ah . . .I guess . . . so. If it's . . . not too much . . . trouble."

The woodsman laughed. "Boy, if I thought you were too much trouble, I'd have never fished you two out of the river to begin with." He slapped his thighs as he pushed himself up. "No, old Cecil and I would have just been sleeping the storm away, getting fat and lazy."

Robin watched him dig in the trunk at the foot of the bed, and the man pulled out a fur. He draped it over one of the chairs and Robin watched it tip slightly. A rocking chair! He then pulled out a heavy flannel shirt. Shaking it out, he carried it over to the bed.

"I had to take your own clothes off of you when I brought you in. You were hypothermic, you understand," he told him as he tugged the blankets back. The chill raised goosebumps on Robin's skin. "They seem a might restrictive, so I'll let you and your brother borrow a couple of my shirts. I always keep a few up here just in case."

Robin was shocked at how weak he was. The man helped him sit up, but had to hold onto him to keep Robin from flopping back over as he put first one arm through the hole and then the other. He buttoned the front up haphazardly, and smirked at him.

"I think that'll do just fine for this little excursion," he said with a chuckle.

The sleeves dangled far past Robin's fingertips and the bottom of the shirt was bunched around his hips. If he could stand, he wouldn't doubt that the shirt would reach to his knees. Now that he was dressed, the man scooped Robin up as if he were a child, and deposited him in the rocker.

During the transfer, Cecil nibbled the edge of Robin's ear and snuffled him curiously. Robin yipped, startled, and then laughed. It ended in another coughing jag.

"Hey there, now, Cecil. Let's not be rude," the woodsman scolded the fox gently. He put the animal on the floor and tossed it a pinecone that he had carried in earlier. "Go play."

As the pinecone rolled across the floor, the delighted fox scampered after it; pouncing and then tumbling over it playfully. Robin smiled at its antics, and briefly wondered if, when he got out of this, Bruce might consider getting him a fox for a pet.

The man kneeled in front of Robin again and started tugging some warm, wool socks over his feet. They were obviously made for a man with size fourteen shoe, and he was able to pull them up to Robin's knees.

"This old shack really wasn't made for toughing out blizzards, you know," he said making conversation. "Gets mighty drafty up in here. These should help."

"Thank you," Robin wheezed. His eyes drifted over to Conner still sleeping on the bed. It was more of a cot, he thought, now that he could see it. It seemed wrong to see the older boy so out of it; his face flushed with something as mundane as a fever. It made Robin feel more exposed and helpless than he would have otherwise.

As the man wrapped the edges of the fur over the boy's legs, Robin indulged his curiosity. "What's . . . your . . . name?"

He glanced up and grinned. "Dr. Dupree," he told him. "I'm a wildlife biologist living up here in these woods; studying the local wolf pack. Been doing it for the last twenty-five years or so."

"Thank . . . you, Doctor," Robin said, "for . . . helping . . . my . . . my brother . . . and me." He ended with more coughing.

"Nonsense, young'un. It was the neighborly thing to do," he patted Robin's leg lightly. For such a large man, he was surprisingly gentle. "Be a rather shoddy bit of hospitality to have just left you two to die like that. And it's been too long since anybody's called me doctor," he laughed. "You can call me Ramón."

"Ramón?" Robin wheezed. A giggle slipped out.

Ramón chuckled and turned to tend to the fire. "My mother was Mexican," he told the boy. "My father met her on a trip down to study Mayan ruins in Mexico. They fell in love and voila! Here I am."

He picked up a mug and spooned a little broth into it; then handed it to the boy. "Can you hold it by yourself?"

He was shaky, but the warmth felt so good to his hands. "I think . . . I can."

In the end, Ramón had to help him, but it had felt so good running down his sore throat, Robin didn't care. He ended with yet another coughing fit, but this time, by the time he had finished it, Robin felt something loosen in his chest. The vise seemed to ease a bit, and he sighed in relief.

The older man took the mug from him and left him to doze by the fire, as he checked up on Conner.

"How . . . is he?"

Ramón glanced back over his shoulder. "His fever is back up," he grumbled. "I ain't never seen anything like it. His wound feels hot to the touch, but it ain't swollen and it ain't seeping; leastwise not yet. I'd hate to have to open it up again," he sighed. "Stitching it up the first time wasn't a whole lot of fun for either of us. No anesthetic," he clarified.

Robin grimaced. He'd had to have stitches once without anesthetics . . . He really preferred to have anesthetics.

He watched as Ramón tossed a couple of white tablets into a pestle and ground them up. He dumped the powder into another mug, poured a little broth into it, and swished it around as he moved back to the bed. The man shook the older boy several times, and was answered with a low moan. Conner didn't even open his eyes when Ramón lifted his head up and held the mug to his lips.

"Come on, now, young'un. You need to drink this up," he coaxed. "And we'll just pray that this time it works."

Conner choked, and then drank the medicated broth unwillingly. Ramón was not to be denied. He was back to sleep before his head hit the pillow. The woodsman tucked the blankets back up around him, and made his way back to the cupboard; shaking his head.

"Damndest thing I ever saw," he muttered. Then he looked over at Robin's worried expression, and his face cleared up. "But don't you worry none, young feller. He's a strapping lad. He'll lick this thing yet."

Robin nodded. His eyes were drooping, but there was something bugging him; something else that he couldn't quite remember. What was he forgetting? His eyes opened up, startled, when Cecil hopped onto his lap, but the little fox only curled up into a ball there; content. Robin's hand found the soft fur, and stroked it as he drifted off; his breathing improved from what it had been when he had first woke up.

 _Something_ . . . _There was something that he needed to remember_ . . .

He fell asleep still wondering what it was.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **I find myself wondering what Roy and Artemis are getting up to next.**

 **Working on a new short story! Should be out soon. I'm ahead of schedule, so it could be out as early as Sunday. Although it takes place in the YJ universe, it is a Batman and Robin story (full of hurt/comfort and tons of angst). You will be able to find it listed as a Batman/Young Justice Crossover - My first ever, so please be able to find it . . . It's called " Gallows Humor" and yes, it involves our favorite clown. The original team will guest star early on.**


	15. When The Snow Falls

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

"Is it still snowing?" Artemis asked. She was poking at the fire with a stick; watching the sparks fly up. Probably not a great idea considering how close it was inside their little alcove.

She was starting to cramp from being cooped up so long. Neither of them were used to being so inactive for great lengths of time. At least, Roy got to move around a bit when he hunted for them and brought back wood for the fire. She hadn't stepped out of the shelter except to get some privacy once or twice a day. Her job in this was to tend the fire, melt the snow to drink, and help cook whatever Roy brought back to eat.

The rabbit was surprisingly good, although that wild flavor had taken a bit of getting used to. Roy complained, however, that rabbit was too lean to depend on as their sole food source; that in a survival situation, they needed to consume more fat in their diet and as many calories as they could get. Without the benefit of seasonal berries and other edible plants, that meant lots of protein.

That's why Roy had brought back two large shanks of venison from his last trip out. He had secured them off the ground in a tree close by to keep it safe from predators. The rest of the deer he had left where he had killed it for any other animals to scavenge.

Roy looked up from where he was checking his boots. "It was when I came back, but nothing like it had been. The majority of the snow being blown about out there is from the wind. It's still pretty strong." Satisfied that the boots were dry enough, he started pulling them back on. "But I'd say the worst of the storm has finally blown through."

"Enough that we can go out looking for the guys?" She asked this hopefully.

The worry over her teammates had steadily increased the longer they remained separated. To say that Artemis was impressed with Roy's survival skills would be an understatement, but the chances that Robin and Conner could have managed nearly as well on their own was admittedly slim. Every day that passed; every night with the temperatures dipping into the negatives whittled those odds even further.

Roy frowned as he thought about that. "The snow and wind will have covered any tracks we might have followed. Chances are we're going to be wandering out there without any way of telling whether or not we are even going in the right direction."

"But . . ."

He held a hand up to stop her. "I didn't say we won't. I've been all over the woods near us, so we can at least eliminate that area. I'm thinking that they might have followed the river initially. Maybe headed off downstream since they obviously didn't head up in our direction. But the likelihood of finding shelter there isn't good. They would have had to head up in order to find a cave similar to this or enough usable wood to build some kind of lean-to."

"A lean-to? With this wind? Would that even work?" Artemis was no country girl, but, from what she could tell, this storm would have destroyed something as flimsy as a lean-to.

"Not long-term, no," he ran a hand through his hair again. "And probably not during what we experienced over the past couple of days."

Artemis was recognizing it as one of Roy's tells. Something he did when frustrated or worried. At this rate, he would be bald by the time the League came to rescue them.

He stood up and looked outside. "It's too late to do anything right now. We don't want to get caught out there after dark. Tomorrow," he promised. "At first light."

She dropped her head onto her knees. "I'm going stir crazy in here."

Roy grinned. He would have been also if he had been in her boots. Hunting helped, but Artemis didn't look as though she would know how to hunt for food. Criminals, maybe, but food . . .?

"I'm going to gather some more wood for the night," he told her. "Would you like to come? As long as we stay close, there should be any danger of losing our way."

Although she rolled her eyes at the 'we' part, Artemis was quick to yank on her coat and zipping it up. She doubted ' _Davy Crockett_ ' even knew _how_ to get lost in the woods. She tugged her gloves on and collected her bow and quiver.

"You shouldn't need your bow to collect wood," Roy said, even as he strapped his own arrows to his back.

"I'd just as soon have it with me, thanks," she looked pointedly at his own weapons.

He shrugged. "We're in the wilderness. We need something with us in case we run into something bigger than we are."

"Like those wolves," she reminded him.

"And I suspect there to be some mountain lions around as well," he nodded.

Startled, Artemis paused and looked at him. "Mountain lions? What about bear? Do we need to worry about bears because I'm not sure I have anything big enough to deter a bear?"

"Bears hibernate," Roy said as he stepped out into the cold.

Artemis felt like face-palming. She knew that! Roy probably thought she was some stupid city slicker that thought cows baaed and goats barked or something.

"Right. I knew that," she grumbled, and was pleasantly surprised when Roy chose to forego the snide comments.

* * *

He activated his homing beacon arrow again where it was still stood at the cave's entrance. He only left it on when he was out, but when it became clear enough to expect a rescue, he would leave it on along with his emergency beacon all the time. He didn't want to waste the batteries unnecessarily. Right now, though, it was just a clear way back to their shelter.

They moved out from the protection of the boulders that lined the entrance. He could barely see where he had been making a path through the snow. There was little new snow, this was made mostly from the wind which was still strong. There were occasional gusts that powerful enough to make him stumble. He kept a hand on Artemis' arm.

"Be careful," he warned her. "This much snow can hide a lot of potential dangers."

She looked at him startled; her brown eyes huge behind her mask. "Like what?"

"Dips and rocks and maybe it could cover up where the true edge of a ravine or a cliff might lie."

"Are you serious?" she looked around her with trepidation.

"The snow can lie in drifts and extend over the lip of an area by several feet," he explained. "You may step to the edge, thinking you're safe, and suddenly the snow you're standing on could give way."

She stepped a little closer to him unconsciously. "And you've been tromping around in this for the last couple of days by yourself? What would have happened if you had fallen over the edge of freaking cliff?"

"I didn't, so that's a moot question," he answered her, amused. He really didn't mean to alarm her; just make her more aware of her surroundings. Right now the world was a beautiful, but deceptive winter wonderland.

She frowned at him. "I'm just saying that maybe the next time you go out, we should both go."

"You're with me now," he pointed out; knowing that he was annoying her, but unable to resist. At her look, he laughed and raised his hands. "Alright, alright! I'm hoping the food I got last time will be more than enough to get us by until we're rescued, but if not, you can come with me and I'll teach you to hunt more than criminals."

Artemis nodded; appeased.

He was leading her in a different direction than he had gone to hunt. Downhill. It would mean more work dragging armloads of wood back up to the shelter, but it was also closer to where the team was last together. Roy didn't think they would find any clues as to where Robin and Conner had gone, but who knows? Maybe the others were looking for them as well.

Artemis recognized where they were headed after a bit. The river came into view as Roy led her toward some heavy stands of trees; the same stand that they had ended up in when she had rescued him from the bridge, in fact. She glanced up and saw the steep rise of land to their left and could just make out the bridge from here.

"Hey! The bridge is right there," she exclaimed. "We should check beneath it for the laser rifle."

"The rifle?" He looked at her blankly for a moment. "Wait! You did say something about getting the rifle away from them, didn't you? That completely slipped my mind. Are you saying that it fell?"

She smirked at him. "It fell between the planks of the bridge when Overton dropped it. Sportsmaster and Cheshire might have gotten away with the scientist and his plans, but we have the rifle itself."

"Huh, think it still works?" Roy stopped to stare. It was only another couple of dozen yards down the hill.

He glanced up. The snow was falling a little heavier again, but the wind wasn't as bad where they were standing. They still needed to get firewood. That wasn't an option, but it would be nice to be able to complete at least part of the mission.

"We can't be out too long. The snow is too high and we'll end up with frostbite on our feet if we're not careful," he warned. "And we still have to gather wood."

"Tell you what," Artemis suggested. "You start gathering up some wood and I'll go after the rifle. It had a strap, so I can fling it over my shoulder and still help carry some of the wood back. Two things accomplished in one trip."

Roy was torn. He didn't like the idea of splitting up. He couldn't see the base of the bridge from here. It wasn't far, however, but the way looked steep. A couple of trees jutted out sideways, indicating that there was a drop off between them and the bank of the river.

"I don't know, princess," he pursed his lips as he considered her idea. "I don't like not being able to see you, and I can't judge how steep the land goes below the tree line here."

"I'll be careful," she assured him. "And I can always call you if I run into trouble."

When he still looked doubtful, she nudged him with her shoulder. "Wouldn't it be nice to have completed our mission when they pick us up instead of looking like a bunch of incompetent schlemiels?"

Schlemiels? A bark of laughter burst from him. "Where'd you hear that word?"

She shrugged, unoffended. "So I like to watch reruns of old eighties' shows when I have free time. So sue me."

Grinning, Roy caved. "Okay. Have a go at it," he said. The amusement fled quickly, however. "But _be careful_! And _call me_ if you need me. I wish you still had your comlink."

"Yeah, me, too," Artemis said, and then gasped. "But you still have yours, right? Have you tried to contact Robin and Conner with it?"

Again, Roy's face shuttered in that neutral expression that meant he didn't have good news. It wasn't . . .

"Several times," he told her. "Once just after we climbed down from that tree. All I get is static."

"Could they just be turned off?"

He hated to burst that bubble. "How likely do you think that is, if they're okay?" He asked this softly.

Artemis' face crumpled. "Couldn't you have just left me with a _little_ hope?"

Roy sighed and pulled her to him; wrapping his arms around her as she lost her composure.

"Sorry," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry. I wish . . ."

She sniffled and leaned back. She was never one for wallowing in her despair. Despite everything, she refused to completely write her friends off. She had lost her comlink, so maybe the boys had lost theirs somehow as well. Until she saw their bodies . . . Her breath caught on a sob, but she swallowed it determinedly, and brushed impatiently at the tears on her cheeks.

"I know what you wish for," she whispered on a shaky voice. "I'm not giving up hope, however. We're still going to search for them tomorrow, and every day the weather permits until they're found; one way or the other."

Roy nodded solemnly and tugged her hood back up to cover her head. "Keep you hood up. You lose most of your body heat through your head," he told her; desperate to change the subject. "Don't go too far. And stay within yelling distance."

She pushed his hand away; exasperated, though, rather than angry. "Yes, Mom."

Roy snorted; happy with the lightened mood. "Mom? Not Dad?"

"My dad isn't exactly the nurturing type," she snarked dryly.

He chuckled. "Okay, Mom it is. Just remember to . . ." he sighed dramatically; shaking his head. "Never mind. _Go_! Just . . . _go_ , and try not to get yourself killed."

Artemis smiled. "You, too. Holler if you need rescuing."

"Right." He smirked.

Roy watched her head down the hill for a minute before turning his attention back to the trees; his eyes already searching for dry, dead branches that he could break off with relative ease.

* * *

Remembering what Roy had told her about hidden ravines and a possible sharp drop off between their stand of trees and the river bank below, Artemis took a route closer to the steep incline that ran below the cliff that held the railway above them. The first of the bridge's supports appeared to her left.

If she couldn't find a safe way down, Artemis figured that she could always shoot a line to the supports and rappel down. It was important that they get that rifle to the League; both as a warning of what the Light had as a weapon, and to maybe reverse engineer it in hopes of making something to nullify the effects of the laser.

She squashed the worry for Superboy. She remembered when they found him under the crates and trunks after the car came to a halt. He hadn't the strength left to free himself. He had fallen from the bridge during the fight with her sister, and Robin had gone after him, but neither she nor Roy had any clue what had happened to them after that.

Could they had fallen into the river somehow?

Looking at the icy-cold, rampaging water sweeping by far below her position still; fear sank its claws into her gut. Falling into that would be a death sentence. Would that explain what happened to the other two members of their team, and why Roy couldn't contact them?

Artemis eased her way a little further down; grasping a dry bush for support. She could definitely feel the ground sloping away from her now. Judging the distance to where it looked like the snow fell away; Artemis saw an easy twelve to fifteen feet. Roy had warned her that the snow could look stable but actually extend beyond the edge of the drop off. She figured she had another six feet before she would need to make allowances.

She eased forward two feet when she pulled her bow from across her shoulder. She shoved through the knee-high drift carefully as she reached up to grab the line arrow she would need to use to rappel down from here. Her foot slid through the snow deeper than she expected. Then deeper still . . .

 _Oh, shit_!

Her eyes flared as suddenly the entire embankment of snow gave way beneath her and she was falling.

" ** _ROY_**!" She screamed.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Well, when it is a great big snow fall, it can sometimes be called an avalanche. Oh my . . . Maybe Artemis should have just stood outside of the shelter and jogged in place or something.**

 **Reminding you like the anal author that I am that reviews are appreciated, and that I've got more chapters out to a new crossover story, "Gallows Humor" already up.**

 **As I have a lot of free time currently, I'll be putting out chapters fast.**


	16. Smoking White Foxes

**So sorry for the delay. Had to run some errands and then discovered I needed to do another rewrite. It was supposed to have been a quick fix, but turns out I ended up doubling the size, so more to read! You're welcome! :D**

 **Warning: A Tiny Bit of Language . . .**

* * *

Robin pulled out his first aid kit. It was equipped for injuries, like bullets and knife wounds, but for things like illness, not so much. So far as meds were concerned; he had two extra-strength pain relievers and little else. But . . . He did carry one broad-spectrum antibiotic pill; something meant to stave off infection until he could get back to the Batcave and Alfred.

It was strong. The highest dosage possible and still be considered safe for his body weight.

Another coughing fit struck suddenly, and when it finished, left Robin slumped against the table; winded and struggling to catch his breath.

Ramón was right. He had a mild case of pneumonia from water getting into his lungs. It wasn't nearly as troublesome as the older man had expected, however. Ironically, the very thing that had nearly killed him had also been instrumental in saving his life. Very little water had gotten into his lungs as his cape had not only dragged him through the river, but had also prevented him from inhaling most of that water from the pressure it had placed on his throat. But even that little bit had been enough to cause his lung infection.

It could have been worse, he acknowledged.

Superboy could have not been able to free him from the wreckage. Ramón could have already left for his cabin before the storm had hit, and not been there to pull them free from the river. Robin could have succumbed to the hypothermia before Ramón could have gotten him back to the shack.

Conner was currently powerless. The red sun laser that Overton had hit him with had stolen his invulnerability as well as his strength. And still he had selflessly risked his own life to save Robin, the injury that he suffered from had been received while attempting to rescue him.

Robin was no doctor; his training wasn't much more extensive than basic first aid, but it didn't take a doctor to realize that, if left untreated, the infection in Conner's wound could kill him before his powers returned and his super-immune system could be rebooted. He glanced over to where Conner dozed fitfully on the cot.

Ramón was barely keeping his fever to a manageable level. Robin still had his one antibiotic pill, though. It wouldn't be enough to completely rid the older boy of his infection, but maybe enough to give his body a fighting chance until the sun broke through the clouds or they were rescued by the League.

But then, Robin remembered that Ramón had mentioned having a small amount of antibiotics back at his cabin. The older man had lamented that his supply was pitifully low, but surely any amount would assist Conner in his fight against his microscopic enemy. Ramón had said it was a six hour hike to the cabin on a good day. It would obviously take much longer in this weather, and with this much snow on the ground. In his current condition, if his stamina could hold out, Robin would likely take twice the time to accomplish it. Ramón, probably not quite so long as that . . .

 _If_ Robin could convince him to take the hike.

Which led him to his second problem . . . When Robin's fever had broken early this morning, and his mind had cleared, he had remembered Roy and Artemis were missing. He had no idea where they were! The last he knew, they had both still been on the bridge; atop the derailed baggage car fighting Sportsmaster and Cheshire. A train had been coming in the opposite direction and, in fact, had been what had pushed the baggage car into the river after him.

But what had happened to them, he didn't know. Had they escaped before the second train had hit? Had the storm overpowered them? If the last two nights had been sporting temperatures in the single digits, had hypothermia snatched away their lives during the first night? If not, then what about last night?

As much as Robin wanted to search for them, he had to acknowledge that the likelihood that his teammates had survived was slender at best; and even those odds were because Robin knew that Roy had learned all about surviving the elements while being raised on the Navajo Indian reservation as a boy. But the reservation was in the southern United States. Winters there could hardly compare to the winters of the Canadian Rockies.

Their host had described this blizzard as being the worst he had seen in his entire twenty-five years of living out here. As much as he hated to admit it; even Roy had his limits.

But if he couldn't help Roy and Artemis, Conner was still depending on him.

Robin walked over to the cot and sat on the edge of it. There was a squeak, and Robin moved; lifting the edge of the blankets. Cecil scrambled out and off the cot where he rubbed against Robin's ankles before trotting over to his water dish.

He chuckled after the fox and coughed. "Sorry, Cecil," he said. "I didn't mean to squish you."

Conner opened glassy eyes to look up at him.

"How are you feeling?" Conner asked with a weak voice.

Robin smiled back at him. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

The older boy shrugged and leaned up on his elbows in an effort to push himself into a sitting position. Robin grabbed the fur from the rocking chair, rolled it up, and placed it behind Conner's back.

"That help?"

Conner grimaced, but nodded. "Thanks," he sighed. "I don't think I've ever slept this much since escaping Cadmus."

Robin stuck the thermometer in his mouth; ignoring the clone's annoyance. Ramón took Conner's temperature almost hourly in an effort to ward off the worst of the fever. But their host had been gone for a couple of hours already this morning. The woodsman had said something about doing a little grocery shopping. Robin wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but they had drank the last of the broth for breakfast.

"It's good for you," Robin announced authoritatively. "You need all your energy to go into healing yourself. One hundred and one," he muttered unhappily.

Conner frowned. "Is this what it's like for you? When you get hurt, I mean."

"Depends," he admitted. "I don't generally have to fend off infections because I usually get medical treatment pretty quickly. But yeah, this is kind of what it's like until I start to mend."

Conner closed his eyes. "It sucks."

"Agreed, but don't go back to sleep yet," Robin told him. "You need antibiotics and sunlight to get better."

"We have no antibiotics," Conner said. "Old Oily told me he had no supply up here."

"Old Oily?" Robin laughed, which started him coughing yet again.

"You okay?" The older boy looked at him with concern. "You almost died, you know! If it hadn't been for that biologist fellow, you would have. I couldn't have saved you on my own. I'm so sorry."

This was the first time that the two had been able to converse privately since before the bridge; Robin was surprised that Conner was taking it so personally. Robin was angry that he hadn't been able to save himself. The images in his memory of his fall in the river were hazy when awake, but he had woken up a couple of times from vivid nightmares of his rough and tumbled journey through the water. It always ended when he had slammed into . . . something; a rock, maybe. He had obviously done that numerous times as the various and colorful bruises he still sported attested.

"Ramón, that's the name of the biologist who saved us," he informed his friend, "told me that you had pulled me out of the river."

Conner shrugged. "No, I only freed you from your cape. It had been holding you under the water. I couldn't get you back to shore on my own, though. Ramón," he tested the name out. "He had to help me. He's the one who gave you CPR."

 _CPR_? Robin blinked. Had he really been that far gone? No wonder his chest hurt.

"Your lips were blue!" Conner seemed to confirm Robin's own thoughts. "If you hadn't had hypothermia, he said you would have already been too far gone; that the cold made it possible to revive you after being underwater for so long."

The younger boy nodded as he thought about it. "Yeah, I think I've heard stories about people being able to do that."

"So," Conner looked him over, "are you going to tell me how are you really feel? You never actually said before."

It was Robin's turn to shrug. His chest was still a little tight; he coughed whenever he breathed too deeply or laughed; he was weak and tired easily; and while his fever remained low, it would still return whenever the fever reducer ran its course. But, all in all, he was feeling much improved over yesterday. With that improvement in mind, Robin attempted to ease his friend's worry.

"A lot better now; thanks." He smiled to emphasize the truth of it.

"I _heard_ you coughing," Conner narrowed his eyes at him. "I always hear you when you cough."

Robin rolled his eyes. "Just a minor side-effect from almost drowning. I'm getting better, though. Nothing to worry about."

Conner stared at him skeptically.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"No."

"Quit acting like you can read my mind. You're not M'gann, you know." Robin stuck his tongue out. "And I'm telling you the truth!"

"You're lying," Conner snorted. "And I'm telling mom when we get back."

Robin burst out laughing at the reminder of their cover story, and ended up with a hacking cough as a result. Conner leaned over to pat him on the back. If he were to have a brother, Robin thought he could do a lot worse than Conner. There was no doubt, without him, Robin wouldn't be alive today.

"Stop glaring at me! It doesn't work on me anyway. Trust me, you have nothing on Batman. Look, Conner, I'm telling you; I'm improving!" He insisted once his wheezing ended. His expression became solemn, however, a minute later. "But you . . . You're not doing too well, are you?"

The older boy leaned back; his eyes moving restlessly around the shack rather than meet Robin's eyes. "That laser is bad news, but I'll survive."

"You're damn right, you will," Robin said with determination.

"Language." Conner smirked.

Cecil roamed back over to his new friends and he hopped on Robin's lap. When the fox rolled onto his back on the boy's lap, Robin accommodated him by scratching his belly as he saw Ramón do. Cecil made a happy, little chittering sound.

"He likes you," Conner commented.

"He likes you, too. I found him under your covers. I almost sat on him," Robin told him.

Conner stuck out a hand to rub the fox's soft fur on his head and ears. If foxes could moan . . . Cecil closed his eyes in bliss.

Robin bit his lip as his thought drifted to his earlier idea. He sat the fox in Conner's lap and let him take over giving the animal attention.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," he began. "It's the real reason I came over here to wake you up."

Conner eyed him curiously.

"Ramón has a small supply of antibiotics at his cabin, and it's clear that you need them," Robin held up a hand to prevent Conner from interrupting. "I'm going to try and see if he'd be willing to go after them, or at least let me do it."

Conner sat up abruptly. There was a flash of pain across his face and he had to stop rubbing the fox to keep his balance with a hand on the bed. He ignore it.

"No! You're not going out in that!"

Robin plowed on despite Conner's protestation. "The weather has improved since yesterday. Ramón even went out this morning to check his traps or something."

"Is it still snowing? Is the wind still blowing?"

Rob blew out a breath. "Yeah, but not as bad as it was."

"Then no, you're not going to go," Conner growled. "If Old Oily wants to risk it, there's not a lot I can do about it, but you almost _died_! Do you want to finish the job?"

"My uniform is insulated . . ."

"You're uniform is compromised. That guy had to cut you out of it! And while it may be made for winter; it's not made for hiking through several feet of snow," Conner barked at him. Nervous by the intensity of the argument, Cecil hopped down from the cot and darted to his basket by the fireplace. "You're not risking your life on my account!"

"Conner . . ." Robin tried to make him understand. "With this infection in your leg, you could _die_ before the effects of the laser wear off. We can try to help that along by moving you closer to the window, but the clouds are still heavy, and they're blocking most of the sun's rays."

"That would help, I guess. I gain just as much of my abilities from the sun's radiation as I do from the actual sunlight itself. I suppose staying cooped up here in the shadows isn't doing me any good either." Conner eyed the window. "Fine. We can do _that_ instead."

Unhappy with the way the conversation was going, Robin sighed. He walked back to the pitcher and filled a mug of water. He stopped only to pick up the pill. He sat back down beside the clone. Conner was watching him warily; his gaze moving once to the hand that held the pill, and then back up to Robin's face.

"What's that?"

"This is part of my conditions," Robin told him as he thrust out the pill. "I have one dose of a broad-spectrum antibiotic, just in case I got an open wound and couldn't get to care right away. _You_ are going to take it."

"You have pneumonia," Conner commented. "You should take it."

"I'm getting better even without it," Robin stated. "You don't have a choice. If you don't take it, I'll grab whatever gear I can and hike to Ramón's cabin."

"You don't know where it is," the clone tried to argue.

Robin shrugged, and shoved the pill in his hand. "Doesn't matter. I'd find it."

"You'd die," Conner told him matter-of-factly.

"Then you'd better take that because I _keep_ my promises," Robin insisted.

Displeased with this particular promise, Conner gave in to the blackmail and put the pill in his mouth. He drank the water. "Satisfied?"

"Not even close," Robin smiled briefly at him before he turned serious once more. "There is still the question of Roy and Artemis, and how to contact Batman and the League."

His belt buckle had been damaged and water had gotten into the circuitry. Because of this his emergency beacon no longer worked, and his extra tracking device had been sewn into his cape . . . The same cape that currently rested at the bottom of the river.

"Do you have any idea where they are?" Conner asked, his face darkening further at the thought of their missing friends. He felt a sharp twinge of guilt that he hadn't thought of them since that first night. Too much had been happening, and he didn't remember much of yesterday.

Robin glanced in the door's direction and shook his head; as if he expected the archers to burst through the door any second, arguing with one another like they had all throughout the start of the mission.

"I miss them," Robin admitted in a whisper. Then, he smirked. "It's been entirely too quiet without them griping at each other all the time."

The reminder of the archers' antics made Conner smile. That had annoyed him at the time, but he, too, found himself missing it as he worried over their fate.

"Why don't you ask Old Oily . . ."

"Ramón," Robin interrupted.

"Yeah, right; Ramón . . . Why don't you ask Ramón to look for them instead of hiking to the cabin?"

"Conner, you need those pills," Robin insisted.

"You think they're dead, don't you?"

Robin had to turn his head away. He hadn't worn his mask for two days now. He felt his emotions were too exposed without it, but it seemed kind of stupid to bother with it now.

"I don't want to," he admitted quietly. "But Ramón assured me that this is the only real shelter of any kind for miles. Unless they maybe climbed up higher and somehow located a cave, but what are the odds of doing that in a blizzard? Without shelter, no one could survive this long out in that weather. And we don't even know if either of them were injured . . . It seems crazy to say this, but I'm kind of hoping that they were captured by Sportsmaster and Cheshire. At least, then they might still be alive."

"You think they'd let them live?"

Robin frowned. "They would be more valuable alive than dead if for no other reason than the information that they might potentially have."

Conner snorted. "They'd never talk."

Robin sighed. _No. They wouldn't_.

Once the boys had stopped yelling at one another, Cecil had crept out of his basket. But instead of searching out their company again, the little fox had used the stool to hop up onto the table that held Robin's utility belt. Several of the compartments were open from where Robin had been searching for something to help their situation.

Conner noticed Cecil exploring the belt; sniffing the different pockets. He nudged Robin.

"Uh, you might want to get your belt," he suggested.

"Yikes! I better close those up," Robin said, standing up in order to intercept what looked to be trouble.

The fox nervously backed up; brushing the belt and causing one of Robin's smoke pellets to roll out onto the table. Interest lit the fox's eyes as it noticed the movement. He tried to pick the bead-sized marble into its mouth.

Suddenly, the pellet burst in the animal's mouth, and white smoke began to roll out of his mouth and nose in an alarming fashion. Robin slapped his hand over his mouth as he alternated between laughing and coughing. He looked like a furry, white dragon!

Conner snorted with laughter as he slid back down in the bed; and prepared to enjoy the show.

The smoke wasn't harmful, but it kept coming and coming. Eventually Cecil spit out what was left of the pellet, but by that time, the shack was filling up with the opaque white vapor. He licked as though trying to get rid of the funny taste left in his mouth, and then little pest glanced back at the belt.

Before Robin could move, Cecil pounced on the belt abruptly; sending a few more pellets skittering out across the table and onto the floor. Two of the pellets burst upon impact and yet more smoke billowed up; filling the shack until you couldn't see more than a few inches from your face.

"Cecil! No!" Robin lunged for the fox.

As Cecil scrambled away from the boy, he knocked the belt to the floor and the smoke pellets rolled out across the floor boards. Robin started coughing as he dove beneath the layer of smoke to find his belt before Cecil discovered his flash bomb grenade.

"Well, crud," Robin muttered in disgust as his knee landed on one of the pellets. Even more smoke poured forth to join the rest. "Quit laughing and help me," he snapped at Conner. The annoying clone merely laughed harder at Robin's predicament.

There was only about a foot or so of space somewhat free of the smoke along the floor, and Robin rushed to locate and gather the now-scattered pellets.

Cecil scampered across the floor, intent of playing with his new toys.

* * *

Ramón walked back to the shack. Now that the storm had mostly blown through, he was able to check some of his traps and found a beaver. _Good eats_ , he smiled to himself. He had to scrape the bottom of the pot for broth this morning. He didn't know how long his guests would be staying before a search party found them, but by the looks of the older boy, Ramón knew he had to do a little grocery shopping in order to continue to care for them.

It had been too long since he had been with people. He could barely remember the decision to stay out in the wilderness and become what folks basically called a hermit. The advent of these boys, however, had him questioning that decision again. Despite the close calls and little rest he had gotten while caring for them, Ramón was finding he was enjoying their company.

 _They seemed like good people_ , he thought.

 _A little strange_ , he admitted when he considered the outfit the youngest boy had been wearing and the mask, but then what did he know about children and whatever the current fashion trends were? It had been a year since he had ventured to Dale's General store for a few necessary items, and closer on to fourteen since he had gone into a town proper. Only folks Ramón saw besides Dale and his wife, were the biologists that the university would send up in order to relocate a couple of wolves and one or two of the forest rangers that were stationed forty miles south of his cabin; and then only every year or two, if that. But he couldn't remember any of them wearing anything like the clothes he had seen Robin wearing.

As Ramón considered his company's current condition, his worry increased at the idea that the oldest boy's infection might turn septic on them. The youngest had been bouncing back at a goodly pace . . . Almost enough that he thought he might risk the trek back to his cabin for what little antibiotics he still had left.

Without hiking back to the cabin, this could get a fair sight worse. Conner could wind up with blood poisoning, and then he'd really be up the creek without a paddle . . . Hell, without a damned boat!

It would take him the better part of the day to hike the distance to the cabin. If he left early in the morning, he could be back by nightfall. He knew his supply of antibiotics there were down to just four or five pills. If that didn't cut it . . . He shoved the thought aside. It would have to. Certainly it would gain him some more time. And his brother should be well enough by then to be left in charge while he was gone. He could show him how to clean his brother's wound after dinner tonight and talk with both boys about it.

He spotted the shack up ahead and halted in his shock. White smoke was seeping out from around the cracks along the roofline and the door. Had that young'un done gone and set the shack on fire? Dropping his trap and the beaver, Ramón increased his speed as fast as the knee deep snow allowed him until he found the track he had made on his way out that morning. The going got easier as soon as he reached that.

"Oh no, oh no," he muttered to himself. "Don't be dead. Please, don't be dead!"

He yanked open the door as thick clouds of white obscured his vision and rolled out the little building. It billowed out around him. He coughed a bit, but the smoke didn't feel corrosive. It didn't burn his throat or eyes hardly at all. Just a minor irritation was all, but it wouldn't feel that way for long if it remained. Luckily, the wind was still blowing and did its part to clear the shack.

Robin's voice could be heard between his coughs. "Cecil, no! Stop already! I swear, I'm ready to make a muff out of you! Bad fox! Leave that alone!"

The smoke thinned enough to see Robin on the floor struggling to pick up little, tiny marbles or pellets of some sort while Cecil appeared to be having the time of his life chasing them as they rolled across the wooden planks. Just then, the fox bounded up to another marble and pounced; both front paws coming down on top of the ball. There was a slight 'pop' and suddenly more white smoke burst from the bead; quickly refilling the interior of the shack despite the assistance of the wind.

"Crud," grumbled the boy from somewhere beyond the billowing white mass. "Cecil, I swear, you are destined to be a new pair of gloves!"

"What's going on in here?" Ramón stood in the doorway and waved the smoke out. The shack would be freezing, but breathing took precedence over the cold at the moment. He could always stoke the fire afterwards and wrap everyone up in blankets until it warmed up a bit.

"Oh, uh, Cecil got curious and got into a pocket of things he had no business being in," Robin's voice came out of the smoke. "Partly my fault, I guess," He admitted, sheepishly. "He wouldn't have been able to get to it if I hadn't been checking my supplies."

The smoke cleared a bit and Ramón caught Cecil as he scampered by near him; picking him up out of the way. He found himself wondering what sort of activities that a thirteen year old boy would participate in that he would need smoke-producing marbles. He could hear Conner laughing somewhere to the left; still in the bed.

"How're you doing over there, Conner?" He called out.

This was a lot of smoke. He didn't know if might cause the older boy some trouble.

"I'm fine," came the reply. "I'm not the one having to clean up after Cecil, after all."

The boy's voice was a little weak yet, but he was coherent today, thank God. He would need to check his temperature and give him some more aspirin to keep it that way.

Finally the smoke had very nearly dissipated; enough so that Ramón could see the older boy still laying on the cot. He was smiling, though, and he figured that a good sign.

The smoke pretty much cleared and his pellets picked up, Robin closed the door to the shack; shivering in the woodsman's flannel shirt. Ramón picked up a poker and jabbed at the wood to stir up the flames, and then added another log.

When he turned back to the room, Ramón noted the uniform was lying folded on the rocking chair. So, the young'un was feeling well enough to be checking up on his belongings. He suddenly remembered that the tunic was sliced right up the middle, just to the left of its clasps. He felt a little guilty now that he hadn't really tried to unhook those clasps first, but despite that, Ramón knew in the same situation, he would have just done the same thing. Time _had_ been of the essence, after all.

"Sorry about your clothes," Ramón told him. "I suppose I could maybe rustle up a needle and thread . . ."

Robin nodded. "You saved my life," he said. "Hard to get upset because you were trying to help me." His eyes flickered over to Conner. "Us. Help us. But if you can find that needle and thread you were talking about, I can do my own repairs."

"Really? Something your mother taught you?"

"No, um . . . my grandfather." Robin told him. "He insisted that we know how to mend our own clothes."

"Well, it's a good thing to know when you live out here by yourself," he admitted.

"Before I forget, I wanted to thank you," Robin said.

"I thought you just did," Ramón smiled. "And it's nice to have some company once in a while, isn't it, Cecil? Almost forgot what it was like . . . You know, back in the day."

The fox rolled around in his arms chittering happily; begging to be scratched and petted. Ramón took a minute to indulge him and then handed him off to the boy.

"Here. Could you hold him for me? I'll be needing to go back out and grab our dinner before some animal or bird gets it into its head that there's a free buffet out at old Ramón's shack," he said as Robin held out both arms for the animal. "I kind of left it lying out there in the snow."

"Dinner?"

He opened the door, and stepped out. "Our specialty, ain't it, Cecil? You're going to love it. Have you ever tasted anything in your life better than beaver?"

Ramón chuckled at the startled expression on the boys' faces as he shut the door on his way out to save their dinner from the creatures of the forest.

 _City boys_ . . .

* * *

 **REACTIONS? Don't forget! ;D**

 **Hard to tell what is going to happen next from here . . . Well, except that we'll be jumping back over to see if Artemis survived the avalanche. Good thing it wasn't the entire mountain of snow that came down with her.**

 **Chapter 4 of Gallows Humor is now posted for your viewing "pleasure". A lot less humor in that one, despite the title . . .**

 **I expect maybe 5 more chapters here, and possibly 3 (I might squeeze one more out of - ) Gallows Humor. That would depend on if the epilogue needs its own chapter or not. Either way, I expect both stories to be finished up by July 6 or 7th at the latest. I'm scheduling into that estimate some potential "life gets in the way-days", too. ;D**


	17. Lucky Break

**This chapter gave me all kinds of trouble . . . But it's finally finished. Well, pretty much. I should probably do a little more editing, but I'm bushed. Gonna take a nap and will be looking over this a bit later to smooth out the rough stuff and find all the typos. No matter how many times I check, there is always more. Here's hoping it's not too bad - Forgive the mistakes! I'll be back to fix them after while. I just thought you might not want to wait until after my nap to read it.**

 **Warning: Language and Peril . . .**

* * *

There was less snow beneath the trees, the branches and trunks doing their part to block much of the falling snow. Kicking aside some of the white stuff, Roy began building a pile of smaller branches that he could break down further at the shelter. The bigger stuff was a little easier to carry if he tied a line around it and strapped it to his back. He figured he could break Artemis' pile down a little more to make it easier for her to carry. He reminded himself that she would probably be carrying the laser rifle once she had recovered it.

He would offer to carry the rifle for her, but knew automatically that she would go all women's lib on him. Which was nuts since she complained when he didn't hold the door or her chair out for her. The blonde archer was a complex contradiction, and he always felt a little on the defensive around her.

How much of that was his own fault, he didn't want to get into at the moment. He'd always found that the more he tried to use reason to figure out women, the bigger the hole he ended up digging for himself. He and Artemis tended to get along better when he didn't overthink it . . . Well, that and whenever she was hungry, he snorted.

Roy jumped up to grab a branch right above his head. His weight should be sufficient to break it off, and that would be more than enough to get them through the rest of the day and the night ahead of them. He had to admit, work was easier when doubled. If they were going to be out here any longer while awaiting that rescue, he would definitely be bringing blondie out with him. This beat him having to go out three times a day and twice at night.

He might even get a full night's sleep tonight if Artemis could stoke the fire once in a while. He hadn't gotten more than four straight hours at a time since the derailment, and even that was because the storm had been too bad to venture back out another time before morning. It had only been catnaps since then. A good dinner of venison might convince the princess to cover the fire for him for the entire night.

A scream cut through his thoughts.

His name . . . He couldn't determine her distance because of the loud rumble that followed. His eyes widened. There was no thunder during a snowstorm!

 **"** ** _Shit_** **!"** _Avalanche_!

He tugged his bow off of where it was perched over his shoulder, and ran in the direction he had last seen her. It was frustratingly slow going, the snow going over his tall boots in some places.

" _Artemis_!"

His heart beat hard in his chest at the silence that followed, only the wind still whistled through the branches and a soft shooshing sound of small pockets of snow still sliding.

 _Damn it_! Why had he let her go by herself? She was a city girl at heart. Artemis didn't know her way around the wilderness as he did . . . Dear God, was he alone out here now? What would he say to the rest of them when rescue finally came and he was the only survivor left?

How would he live with himself?

He trudged harder through the snow following her path, a path that was nearly obliterated already. As he neared, he could see the bridge support. Roy had no doubt that Artemis had planned to use that as a means to lower herself from the shelf where he now stood. The damage was immediately visible. What was left of the shelf of snow jutting out past the edge of the cliff was maybe twelve feet or so. Artemis must have misjudged the distance that was safe and an entire twenty yard width had collapsed right out from under her.

Only a crunchy, hard crust of snow was left. He stomped over it and peered over the edge. He couldn't see anything but a huge pile of snow below but it didn't look too far down. If she was lucky, Artemis might have managed to avoid serious injury. He just had to locate her and somehow dig her out of that mess. Yanking out an arrow, he shot it into the strongest looking tree behind him. He would need it to get them back up the incline. He turned and began rappelling off the side of the incline to the top of the snow below.

"Artemis! Can you hear me?" He yelled, hoping to like hell she was close enough to the surface that he could hear her.

He spun in a circle and spotted the top several inches of her bow sticking out of the snow. He stumbled over to it and pushed it back and forth to loosen it up, and tugging. When he pulled it free, he called down into the hole he had made.

A muffled response. He almost couldn't hear it over the wind. God, they were fortunate because there had been no guarantee that Artemis would end up anywhere near where the bow had landed. The small hole at least could provide some air til he could get down to her.

"Hang on, princess! I'm coming," he called.

He began digging, using his bow to help whenever he hit a big clump and needed to pry it out of his way. At four feet, Roy found her fingers. He grabbed them and gave them a gentle wiggle to let her know he was right there.

"Don't worry. I've got you," he said. "I'm here. Do you hear me, Artie? I'm right here!"

He was talking to help keep her calm, but it appeared to have the opposite effect. Artemis began panicking.

"Roy?" She squeaked. "Oh God, get me out of here! I can't breathe! Help me!"

"Calm down, princess," he told her loudly to be heard over her own cries. "You can breathe just fine."

"No, I can't, you big jerk," she choked out.

"If you couldn't breathe, you couldn't talk," he explained with he was certain was infuriating calm. He was positive it would drive her up the wall because he would likely be feeling the same way in her position. But, if he panicked, she would freak out even more.

Her voice broke. "Get me out! Please! Please, get me out!"

He continued to dig, but with renewed vigor now that he had found her. Listening to her, however, he had to wonder if she had claustrophobia.

 _Hell, if she didn't; she probably would after this_ , he thought to himself.

Eventually, he cleared her entire arm and part of her face. She had come to rest on her side with one arm extended out and above her head. He suspected that she had attempted to hang onto her bow.

 _Stupid_. She could have broken her fingers, dislocated or broken her arm doing that.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" He needed to know because if she had no serious injuries, he could just clear her shoulders and pull her free. Dealing with broken bones would be trickier because he would need to immobilize them before pulling her out of there.

She turned her face up to the sky. "No, I-I don't th-think so."

"I need you to be sure," Roy told her. "Can you move everything?"

"No! I can't move!" Artemis yelled at him suddenly. "If I could move, I would have dug myself out of here by now!"

He held onto his patience. "I meant I need to know if anything is broken or painful. Try wiggling your toes."

"'Kay," she panted; still struggling to deal with her immobility and failing. "Ow."

"What?"

"I think I may have wrenched something in my ankle, b-but it's not bad," She admitted.

He sighed. He would end up having to carry her back to the shelter and making a second trip for the wood. At least the snow would help keep any swelling down. His feet, however, would be in danger of frostbite before he was finished, he was sure. His toes were already beyond cold. But then, how much colder was blondie right now?

He wouldn't yell. This was his fault. She wasn't used to wilderness conditions, although she would be before the team or the League arrived. He should have insisted on sticking together. The damned rifle wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Anything else? How's this hand?" He stopped digging to touch her exposed arm.

"Um, okay, the hand and wrist are sore, but I can move them." To prove it, she wiggled her fingers.

"Right," he said; continuing to haul snow out of his way. "Sore is good. Sore we can work with. Broken bones, not so much."

Roy shoved enough away that he thought he could get a grip on her. "Okay, I'm going to try to pull you out, slowly. You tell me if I need to stop."

"Just get me out of here," she told him. "I don't care if it hurts!"

"I do. I could make any injury worse, and in this mess, that could just get you dead," he snapped at her.

He slid his hands under her arms. "Try to help push with your feet if you can."

After a few minutes of struggling, Roy had pulled Artemis free. She was shivering, but how much of that was shock and how much from the cold, he didn't know, but he needed to get her back up the hill to the shelter so she could get warm fast.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I thought I had another couple of feet."

"I shouldn't have let you go alone," he admitted.

"I've done very little training in the wilderness. Most of it was in the city," she said.

"When we get back, we need to tell Ollie to take you out and show you how to survive. Although, he's more used to tropical climates than winter ones," Roy told her as he moved to check her knees and then her ankles. "Which one did you wrench?"

"The left, but it's not too bad."

He looked up at her. "Let me be the judge of that."

"I'm fine," Artemis stood up.

She was a little shaky, but seemed okay. Roy let it pass. She was a big girl, after all. She should know what she can handle. He picked her bow up and handed it to her.

"You think you can climb with that?" He asked, curious to see if she would admit that she needed help. He got that she was embarrassed over freaking out but no one could blame her for it.

"I think so," she told him.

* * *

Roy watched as Artemis plucked an arrow from her quiver. She hadn't lost them all, thankfully. She apparently still had the one she looking for. Her left hand shook as she pulled the bowstring. He didn't say anything, but waited for her to come to her own conclusion. After a moment, she put the bow down.

"Maybe I do need a little help," she admitted reluctantly. "My hand is too weak to make the shot. Okay, then, would you mind?"

Roy held out his hand for her arrow and in seconds sent it upward until it struck and overhanging branch of the tree he had used to secure his own line. The arrow left its own line hanging down and a small, but powerful mechanism on the shaft worked as a winch. It would do all the work, and haul her up the steep incline.

Apparently satisfied, Roy grabbed his own line and climbed up hand over hand, arriving just seconds behind her. He retrieved their arrows. They couldn't afford to leave anything behind that they might need later. Although the intensity of the storm had decreased, it hadn't stopped. The cloud over was still heavy and thick. Rescue was still a few days off.

Their train was scheduled to arrive in Prince Rupert today, however, so at least there would be someone looking for them by tonight, but the chances that they would be found soon were slender at best. It would be safer for them to assume the worst and prepare for the long haul than to be wasteful and be forced to regret it later.

Snow was sticking to Artemis' hair. Her hood had fallen back again. Without thinking, Roy dusted the worst of it off. Last thing she needed was all that hair to be wet. He noted a touch of red where her cheek and forehead had been scraped by a rock or a piece of wood in her fall. He didn't know whether to call her unlucky to have fallen or lucky to have come through it in one piece. He tugged her hood back over her head.

She was looking at him funny, he noted then, and stepped back.

"You need to keep your head warm and dry." He muttered the reminder as he turned away. He felt a flush of heat briefly warm his frozen cheeks, and rolled his eyes. _Great_! Now he was blushing like a middle schooler.

Artemis' hand caught his arm, and he paused, turning his head just enough to let her know he was listening, but hopefully not enough for her to see his pinked cheeks. The cold made his skin pale and the blush stood out starkly. _Damned redheaded complexion_!

"Yeah?" He asked gruffly.

"I . . . I, uh, just wanted . . . to, you know, thank you," she stammered. "For saving me."

Surprised, Roy turned around to face her, blush forgotten. "Thank me? Did you think I wouldn't?"

She blinked, wide-eyed at his expression. "Um, no! No! I mean . . ." She shoved him aside as she limped up the slope. "I was just being polite," she grumbled.

He had just started up after her when Artemis swung back around abruptly. He almost ran into her. She poked him in the chest with a finger.

"My life means something to me, you know," she told him angrily. "If I want to thank you for saving it; you could at least say you're welcome!"

He stared as tears flooded her eyes. They didn't fall, however, and he'd be eternally grateful for that . . . and he suspected she would be also. But he got it. She had been afraid for her life. Of course she would want to thank him for it. His gruff response earlier had been more about his own discomfort than any actual insult towards her. He had reacted badly.

Eager to move past this and back to the awkward, but workable relationship they had recently established, he nodded.

"You're most welcome," he said. A smirk lifted the side of his mouth. He gave her a little push to start them back up the hill. "Besides," he added. "I had too much food for just one person. If something happened to you, I'd get fat and lazy before anyone ever found me."

Roy felt her back stiffen under his hand as he helped her up the slope. He suppressed a laugh. "And bored . . . No one to argue with or to snap my head off for every little thing? There would be nothing to entertain me except watching the snow fall. I'd go nuts in a day for sure."

Artemis scraped some snow off of a boulder she was passing, and spun around to hit him in the face with a loose snowball. She laughed at his startled expression.

"Well, we couldn't have that, could we? You wouldn't make a very effective hero if you were fat, lazy, and bored!"

He wiped the snow off of his face, and glared at her. "Why, you little . . ."

"Ah, ah! There's a lady present," she reminded him, grinning.

He paused a second, and then laughed with her. "Oh, yeah! I forgot!"

They worked their way back to the trees. The sounds of relieved laughter breaking up the silence of the forest, both of them grateful to be alive, happy to not be alone.

* * *

It took a little doing, but Artemis talked Roy into letting her help carry some of the wood back up the mountainside. She could still help despite her injuries. They were minor, hardly more that some muscle strain. It could have been so much worse.

Roy had found her quickly which was a good thing because Artemis really had been having trouble breathing until he had cleared a little of the snow away and got her fresh air. She had been packed in so tightly and awkwardly, she had no room to maneuver and not enough air to breathe. Another fifteen to twenty minutes, she might have suffocated. Beyond that, Artemis could have been crushed or had a limb broken in the fall. She could have hit her head . . . and that reminded her of the scrapes she was sporting on her right cheek and forehead.

That Roy had heard her and found her so quickly was truly a lucky break for her. That she wasn't dead already from one thing or another out of this whole mission was a massive steak of unbelievable luck! It made her wonder if she were really cut out for all of this, despite all the training she had received from her father and Black Canary and even Green Arrow.

The shelter was just beyond the rise. The snow, although not as hard as it had been, had fallen at a steady pace all day. The path they had made was barely visible.

Her lungs were burning from the cold air as she panted for breath. Maybe carrying a load of wood with a strained wrist and ankle up the side of a mountain hadn't been the best idea she'd had, but it wasn't fair for Roy to have to shoulder the entire burden or make another trip. The fact that she could barely feel her ankle was something of a blessing, though, and made it a little easier to soldier on.

Roy shifted his bundle of wood, and held her elbow for support. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she let him.

"You okay?" He looked over at her; concerned.

It was only the third time he had asked her. He must think her a complete incompetent by this time. Artemis was only glad that her father wasn't here to see this. Sportsmaster didn't approve of failures, and he hadn't any qualms over showing Artemis his displeasure.

"I'll make it," she assured him. "It's not all that much farther now."

She adjusted the line on her shoulder from which she dragged the small bundle of branches behind her. Roy had his own bundle that was nearly three times the size of hers. She had asked him why they needed so much and he just told her he didn't relish having to go out several times a day and twice at night to retrieve more.

"Besides," he had added, "I was thinking to lay a few across the entrance to expand our usable space. It will still allow the smoke to exit, but it will block the wind from entering a little better."

Artemis was all for more usable space. As it was they ended up having to sleep almost snuggled up together. It felt odd to her, but apparently she was the only one who thought so. Roy was usually snoring the second his head hit the ground. And if Artemis thought it was hard to fall asleep when he was awake, it was ten times worse when he was asleep before her. She hadn't considered carrying ear plugs at the start of the mission, and now she was living to regret it.

Still, it was kind of funny . . . She didn't think he knew that he snored. She bit her lip to hide her amusement. He was sure to ask about it, and she kind of didn't want to ruin his fantasy.

The ridge was steep and Artemis struggled to climb it. She felt weighted down and awkward. Roy planted a hand on her rump and shoved her up. Artemis squeaked, but didn't have a chance to complain. She topped the ridge and gasped; dropping her load and herself to the ground. At least the snow would hide her . . .

"What happened?" Roy yelped; surprised. "Are you hurt?"

Artemis waved him down behind her and shushed him. "Quiet!"

He shoved the snow out of his way as he crawled up beside her. "What's going on?"

"Wolves," she whispered worriedly.

"Wolves?" He glanced at her startled.

"They're attacking those haunches of deer meat you dragged back with you last night," she explained; slipping her bow from over her head. "They didn't see me."

"Good thing," he muttered. "Better, too, that we're somewhat downwind of them." He peeked over the blanket of snow. "Damn it! We can't let the take our food! Luckily, being out overnight is like keeping it in the freezer. They'll likely break a tooth trying to eat it."

"How did they know it was here?" Artemis asked this as he, too, pulled free his bow and grabbed an arrow. "Did they smell it?"

"I'm fairly certain they tracked the trail of blood I left while dragging it behind me."

Artemis lifted her head to get a better count. These were the same wolves that had been below their tree their first night here. Still five of them. She recognized the alpha immediately. He was a dark gray color with a white streak down his nose and across his chest.

The last time she had used her flare arrow to scare them off, but she only had one flare arrow left. She had wanted to save it until they spotted a plane or the Bioship to make it easier to find them. Artemis had a terrible fear that they would pass over them without seeing them, and they would remain stranded forever.

"I used a flare arrow last time," she told Roy. "I don't suppose you have one stashed in your quiver, do you?"

"I do, but I was saving it," he admitted.

She squinted at the arrow he had palmed. "What one is that?"

He backed down and over the ridge. "One we're going to have to move upwind for."

It took just a second for her to understand. She scooted out of her position. "You mean a tear gas arrow."

He smirked. "You got it." He waved her on. "Let's go."

"Will it keep them away, do you think?" Artemis asked just loud enough for him to hear. The wind was picking up a bit. "You'll have to shorten the distance with this wind, otherwise it will blow away too quickly to do more than make them mad."

"Already thought of that, princess," he said, nodding in agreement.

He aimed; the wind was at their back, so he didn't have to send it but half the distance. The arrow struck and the gas expelled. It too only a moment for the first wolf to yelp and duck. The several of them yipped; backing away from the meat. She had two more of these arrows if they ended up needing them.

"Come on, I want you to get into the shelter," he pulled her up and forward with him.

"No," she argued. She wasn't going to hide from a fight. "You might need help."

The wolves had scattered, but they hadn't left. This much snow must make hunting hard. They would fight for their prize.

"You can't draw your bow," he snapped and shoved her toward the cave entrance.

"I have my crossbow," Artemis yanked it out of her pouch and strapped it on injured arm.

She didn't have to have the strength just to aim it. Her good hand could load the arrows. The smaller arrows were also deadly. Artemis dug into the bottom of the pouch and found a three blunt tips. She kept watch as she tipped what she could, but if she needed any more than that, she would risk killing the beautiful animals.

As a unit, the wolves had noticed them and understood that there was a competition for the food. In fact, they seemed rather unafraid of them; not anywhere near the kind of fear she thought wild wolves would have towards humans. They knew about humans obviously, and weren't impressed.

They were going to have to do something to impress them quick. The alpha appeared to be eyeing them as more than just intruders. Artemis suddenly realized that she and Roy were both meat and already defrosted, although her toes might argue with that assessment. Two of the wolves circled around them.

"Uh, Roy? Are you seeing this?"

"What? That we're their next meal? Yeah, I'm seeing this." Roy kept watch on the alpha. "You should take cover and let me handle this."

Artemis moved behind Roy; placing her back against his. "I refuse to leave you out here with your back exposed. But I only have three blunt arrows for my crossbow. Do I have to kill them?"

"If it's them or us, then yes. But let me see what I can do first." Roy pulled another arrow and let it fly. This one struck base of the tree near the carcass and exploded into flames.

Artemis twisted around to see. "An incendiary arrow. Is it working?"

The two wolves that had been near it yelped and loped farther away; hesitant now to get close to the surprising humans.

"I don't know," Roy said as he turned in the direction of another wolf. "It singed their coats anyway. It made them wary of us, and that can only be a good thing."

Suddenly one of the wolves leapt! Artemis used her crossbow and the arrow thumped hard against its chest. It yelped, but its momentum nearly brought it down on top of her. Artemis threw herself forward, and landed on her knees. The wolf had landed just behind Roy, but its sights were on the human that hurt it. It charged her.

Moving in snow this deep was exceptionally hard. She couldn't use her gymnastics in it. Maybe if it was fluffy like it looked, but the temperatures had been below freezing for the last three days; possibly longer. The top was loose from all the new snow falling, but the bottom several inches were crunchy and dense. It caught at her boots and made it difficult to move well.

The only thing that was saving them was that it was difficult for the wolves as well.

But the area that they were in was being disturbed and pushed down. The wolf didn't get buried up to its shoulders here, but only partially up its legs. Its speed was still impressive.

Artemis flipped around onto her back and brought her compound bow up just in time. She hit the wolf with enough force to knock it to the side, but it was heavy, and the beast landed right beside her. It was scrabbling to get to its feet; its claws caught her jacket and upper leg. Her coat shredded, but its bottom claws tore easily through the insulated fabric between the light Kevlar plating that protected the heavy muscles of her thigh. The skin beneath was no match.

Artemis shrieked.

One paw came dangerously close to her face; and she grabbed the front paws in an effort to protect herself. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and realized another wolf was coming in for the kill now that she, the prey, was down. Blood was in the air, and the wolves were hungry.

Then, abruptly, there was a flash of red and the second wolf was gone. As much as she wanted to look, her immediate concerns came from the snapping jaws in front of her. She released on of the paws to grab the beast's lower jaw and attempted to hold its head back. The wolf was gaining purchase, however, and was soon on top of her. Although Artemis could bench press her own body weight, the weights in the gym were never attacking her while she was doing it.

She released her hold on the other paw to free up her crossbow; this time aiming for the wolf's exposed underbelly. She fired, and the close proximity had a devastating impact, and the wolf yelped. Whining, it veered off and raced away from her.

Artemis quickly climbed to her feet. On the ground was not the place to be. She whirled around searching for Roy and discovered him in a similar situation. He lay on his side against the alpha's back; his arms were threaded under the wolf's front legs and both hands were gripping the muzzle; holding it down for all he was worth. But like her, he was stuck. If he let go, the wolf would be able to get to its feet before he could.

She looked around to see where the other members of the pack were. The one she had hit twice was gone. The other three were milling around, but at a distance. One of them had yet to engage, and she wondered if they were waiting to the outcome of the fight or just biding their time.

The alpha had renewed it struggle with vigor, and Roy was having trouble holding him now. Assured that none of the other wolves were about to rush her, Artemis turned and aimed the last of her blunt-tipped arrows at the wolf. There was so much movement, she was worried that she might end up hitting Roy with her arrow, but after just a moment's hesitation, she fired. Her arrow struck true, hitting the alpha in sensitive area just above the back leg. It yipped in pain and Roy released it while rolling backward. When he came up, his knife was in his hand.

If the wolf attacked them again, it would die.

But the alpha loped off; joining the others and disappearing into the snow-laden woods.

"Are you alright?" They asked at the same time.

The smiles that were exchanged were tired, and Artemis' legs were shaking from exhaustion. Roy tromped over to the haunches that were still dangling from the tree to inspect the damage. He ran a hand over the meat.

"Not too bad. They were only able to get to the lower areas. There is still plenty left for us," he announced.

Artemis headed over to the ridge to retrieve her bundle of wood. She was freezing and wet, and suddenly that little cave sounded like paradise to her. Roy slid down the small incline and picked up his own bundle.

"Come on, princess," he said, taking her wood from her and hauling both toward the shelter. "Let's get warm and eat something. We'll probably need to pack up what we can of the meat to take with us and look for another place to call home til someone from the League finds us. Those wolves now know we're here, and they'll probably be back."

"Tonight?" She squeaked.

"Hopefully not tonight, but I wouldn't stake my life on it. We can sleep in shifts. Tomorrow, however, we'll need to move," he told her. "We'll head back to the river and see if we can't track down Robin and Superboy while we're at it. Sound like a plan to you?"

All she wanted at the moment was to sleep by that fire. But concern for their teammates continued to eat at her. She desperately wanted to find the boys, but more than anything, she wanted to find them alive. Unfortunately, with every hour, it became more and more unlikely to happen.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Perhaps the term "lucky break" isn't an exact fit, but hey! No one died in this chapter, and that's always a good thing!**

 **How did this read? Was it exciting enough or did it drag? I'm not sure why this one gave me such a hard time, but I'm hoping that you are still enjoying the story. More excitement ahead . . .**

 **And don't worry. We'll see the POV of some of our favorite Leaguers before too long.**


	18. A Turn For The Worse

**This was a hard chapter to write, and what you see below is the second version. The first had a great scene in it, but it wouldn't allow for certain things to happen later . . . And I really wanted certain things to happen later. But I'm happy with this version despite that missing scene. If you're curious about the first version, you can always vote in the poll at the top of my profile page for a collection of deleted scenes and excepts. I'm considering posting all those that were good, but just didn't work for the plot.**

 **Warning: Some Language and a Little Bit of ICK . . .**

* * *

Lunch had been . . . interesting. Robin had to admit, beaver wasn't half bad, and had entertained himself by wondering what Alfred's culinary skills could do with it. He laughed as he imagined the man's face if, when he got home, he asked for it.

Conner dozed afterwards. He'd been sleeping a lot, and it was so odd that it was all Robin could do not to go over and check his breathing or shake him awake every so often. Cecil didn't mind, apparently, and liked to cuddle with the Kryptonian; lying on his overly warm chest or snuggling under the blanket with him.

Robin spent a little time in the rocking chair trying to think of ways to get Conner the meds he needed; how to contact the League; how to find Roy and Artemis . . . It was during one of these times that his eyes saw them. How had he not noticed that Ramón had stashed items in the support beams overhead before now? And what was that . . .?

His curiosity had Robin climbing on the table and stretching up . . . His fingers could barely touch the wooden frame. The boy gave a leap and caught one of the beams with his hands and swung his legs over the next one. He pulled himself up into the space; a little breathless from the sudden exertion and aggravating his cough.

He had to lean a bit to avoid hitting his head on the roof, but now he could reach the items he had spied from below. They were tucked in next to a couple of crates. He plucked them from their precarious perches and held them up. Snowshoes! They were a little damaged which explained why Ramón hadn't been using them. As Robin inspected them, he thought he could probably fix them right up with a bit of twine, or even some of his high-tensile batline.

With nearly three feet of snow out there; more in some places, snowshoes would definitely come in handy. He glanced down at Conner and knew that this would enable them to get the antibiotics he needed to last until they could be rescued. The antibiotic pill Robin had given him had seemed to have helped somewhat over the last few hours, but as soon as it ran its course, the infection would be reasserting itself and his life would be endangered once more.

He didn't know if fevers affected Kryptonians the same way it did humans, but they had to assume so. It would be back soon, however. Robin's antibiotic could only do so much. If only the cloud cover would break. Time in the sun would boost Conner's immune system and allow him to get his strength back. He bought his friend time, but not nearly enough; maybe a day or two at most.

How long before the League would begin searching for them? The train had been scheduled to arrive today by two in the afternoon. Batman would know by now that they were in trouble, but the weather wasn't cooperating. The wind was too strong; making it too dangerous out there to fly the Bioship. In fact, Robin doubted that even the Batwing could brave the storm safely.

The idea that Batman might still try it was worrisome. He kind of hoped that Alfred might be able to talk Bruce from doing anything stupid, but the trusted butler was a continent away; his influence weakened by the distance. Maybe someone from the League . . .? Robin knew that Green Lantern and Superman were both off-world at the moment on missions of their own. He didn't think that either were scheduled back for another day or two.

Meaning that getting to the cabin and getting those antibiotics for Conner just became a priority in Robin's book.

Robin jumped down and yanked out his belt. He had the tools he needed to fix the snowshoes. With them, he could shave off a lot of time from the hike and save the wearer frostbitten toes. He would ask Ramón if he'd consider the trip again when he returned from collecting more wood.

* * *

Robin had just tied off the last bit of line when Ramón opened the door. Cecil made a mad scramble out from under Conner's blankets to greet him. The little fox wound its way around his legs begging for attention while Ramón stacked his wood next to the fireplace. As soon as his hands were empty, Cecil leapt into his arms.

"Heh! I see you, Cecil," the older man rumbled, good-naturedly. "Take it easy."

"He really misses you when you step out," Robin commented.

"He usually accompanies me," Ramón admitted. "Being cooped up like this is hard on an energetic body like Cecil . . ." he eyed the newly-repaired snowshoes propped against the wall. "And you, too, apparently. Been busy while I was gone, have you?"

Robin shrugged. "Seems like they'd come in handy out there."

"That they would," he agreed. "Course, I've already got paths marked out in all the places that I need to go."

Robin glanced behind him at Conner. His face was flushed again, and he was beginning to get restless. "Actually, I was thinking that they would come in handy on the hike to your cabin."

"Ah, I see," Ramón draped Cecil around his shoulders to keep the animal out of his way and picked up the thermometer. "Fever back up again? He was doing so well last night and this morning. I thought we were on the mend."

He placed his hand on the boy's forehead. Even without the thermometer, Ramón could feel the heat pouring off of him. He frowned, and pulled the covers back to check on his wound. It hadn't looked bad yesterday, although this morning it had been warm to the touch. Now, however, one glance showed how quickly things can change for the worse.

Robin gulped. "That's not good, is it?"

"No," he told the boy honestly. His optimistic drawl was missing as his voice went flat with worry. "Not good at all."

The bandage over the wound on Conner's thigh was stained red and yellow. Some seepage was expected, but the yellow tinge meant the infection was worse. As he unwrapped the gauze, Ramón handed Robin the thermometer.

"Put that under his tongue and hold it in place," he ordered. "We need to see how serious this is getting."

As Robin moved to obey, Ramón pulled the last of the bandage away. The putrid smell immediately hit them. The wound was swollen and pulling at the stitches, and blood-tinged pus was seeping from between them. The area around it was red and hot.

"Oh, ugh! That's awful!" The younger boy made a gagging noise.

Ramón sighed. "Damn it! I don't understand it! I cleaned that wound! Where the hell is this coming from? It's like this boy doesn't have an immune system at all?" He looked at Robin. "Is there something you're not telling me? Does he have an autoimmune deficiency condition?"

Robin blinked watery eyes. "What?"

"Leukemia, maybe?"

"Ah, no?" Robin looked unsure, however. It seemed like the pill he had given Conner had only helped for an hour or two! The infection seemed worse than even before!

"There ain't no call for it," Ramón declared. "Is that temperature ready? Hand it to me and go boil me some water. I don't have more bandages, so we're going to have to clean these, but I'm going to leave it open for a little while so it can drain." He glanced at the thermometer and cursed again. "One hundred and three!"

Robin was dipping fresh water into a smaller pot and moving it over the fire. "That's pretty high."

He was confused. The fever shouldn't have returned for a day or so, but the infection wasn't acting like it should. Ramón was right; it was like the Red Sun laser had destroyed his immune system much like leukemia would have.

"That's too high. This infection is moving into his blood." Ramón told him.

"Into his blood? But wouldn't that be sepsis?" Robin gaped. "Don't you need a hospital for that?"

"Not sepsis yet, but septicemia for sure. He needs a hospital, but unfortunately, we don't have one of those handy." Ramón said. "We're going to need those antibiotics, but I can't go and leave him like this!" He cursed again; all his good humor had fled with this new development.

"I can take care of him if you show me what to do," Robin offered; his own worry was evident.

"I'm afraid I couldn't show you enough. A lot can change in the eighteen hours it will take me to travel there and back in this weather. You see how quickly it changed in just four!" _God, what if he returned to find the older boy had passed on_? _What would that do to young Robin to watch helplessly as his older brother died while in his care_?

"But I mended the snowshoes! Wouldn't that help?" Robin grabbed them and showed his work.

Ramón shook his head. "That might shave off a couple of hours, but he's going to need those pills before then."

Robin flew to the door and yanked it open. Snow flurries and a brisk wind hit him. Visibility wasn't as bad as earlier. He spun around.

"I'll go," he blurted. "I'll find the cabin and get the pills for him! Just show me where it is!"

"I can't send you out in that," Ramón glared. "The wind isn't bad at the moment, but the gusts are incredibly strong. Visibility goes out the window when the wind kicks up. You could get lost and then I would lose the both of you."

"We're going to lose Conner if I don't go," Robin yelled at him. " _Help me, damn it_!"

Ramón watched as Robin's tirade ended in a coughing fit that bent the boy over double. He shook his head sadly. "No, boy. I can't allow it."

"Do you have a map?" Robin wheezed the question as he wiped the moisture his coughing had wrung from his eyes.

"It won't do no good! You couldn't get there any sooner than I could," he told the boy.

"You don't know that," Robin argued.

"I know you still have pneumonia," Ramón replied. "You still have a fever. You're weak and cough when you exert yourself still."

"I'm getting better!"

"You're inside with a fire to warm you and a bed to sleep in. You can rest and there is ample food for your belly. That is why you're getting better." The grizzled biologist ticked off on his fingers. "But you go out there and it's a different story!

"Look! This ain't some park, young'un! The animals out there aren't kept in cages and fed regularly. They are wild, and they hunt and kill to survive. After this storm, they're going to be more desperate than before. You are like waving a nice, juicy steak in their starving faces." Ramón glared at him; intent on getting his point across. "They will track you. They'll hunt you because they will know with one breath that you are sick and weak, and will make the perfect prey. If the weather doesn't kill you; one of those animals would."

Tears of frustration threatened to fall, but Robin blinked them back. He was determined. He thrust a finger in Conner's direction. "He'll _die_!"

"And you want to join him, is that it?" Ramón smacked the table with his hand. "What am I supposed to tell your parents, hm? Is it not bad enough that they might lose one son? Must they lose you _both_?"

"I'm not that hard to kill," Robin muttered.

"Maybe not; _if_ there's someone around to pull your scrawny ass out of the river and give you CPR," Ramón was done with this conversation. "Son, I'd go if I thought I could save him by doing so. But Conner's going to get worse, and you're not going to be capable of doing what's necessary to care for him by yourself before I can get back."

"Then give me the map, and let _me_ go for you." Robin groused. "It's my choice!"

Ramón stood up; towering over the boy. "If you were a might older, I might agree with you, but you're still just a boy."

"I'm not 'just' anything," Robin snapping. "I'm a hero. I work with heroes. I'm not your typical teenager."

"Heroes?" Ramon checked on the water to see if it was boiling yet. He needed to open that wound and he needed his knife to be sterilized to do it. "What sort of heroes are you talking about? The police?"

Robin bit his lip. Batman would kill him if he told this man the truth, but then Ramón didn't know his real name. He didn't watch television. He talked to no one, but Cecil. He would risk it. Perhaps if he realized that Robin wasn't just some kid; Ramón would let him go.

"I work with the Batman," Robin whispered; as if that would make it better.

Ramón threw him a look. "The what? I didn't think you hit your head _that_ hard."

"It's true," he insisted.

"What the hell is a Bat-man?" Ramón muttered as he gathered what he needed.

Robin blinked. This wasn't what he expected. "You've never heard of the Justice League?"

The League had been operating now for the past five years. They were known the world over ever since Darkseid had tried to invade earth and had brought the original seven members together for the first time.

Ramón smirked over his shoulder at the boy. "I don't hear a lot about what's going on in the world way out here." He shrugged a shoulder. "Can't say that I miss it none either . . . Although, I'll admit to a certain curiosity about a bat/man hybrid. Something like that might even pull me away from my wolves. Well, for a bit, anyway."

Robin gaped. "Batman isn't a hybrid. He's a human, but also a vigilante; a hero. He protects his city from bad guys, and when necessary, the world. He works with other superheroes like Superman and Wonder Woman . . ." His voice tapered off as he recognized that his host was less than impressed.

"Sorry. Never heard of them," Ramón poured some of the boiling water into the water pitcher, and then proceeded to dip his knife into what was left in the pot. "But 'ppears to me they think mighty high of themselves, what with names like that."

"You don't remember when Darkseid invaded the planet?"

This bit of news made the biologist in him sit up straight. He glanced at Robin skeptically. "The planet was invaded? By what?"

"Uh, wow . . . We really are out in the wilderness, aren't we?" Robin looked out of the window at the winter wonderland beyond.

Why _would_ he know about Darkseid? The boom tubes had clustered around the major cities where the majority of the people resided. There wouldn't have been one out here for the one or two people that might inhabit such a densely wooded area. The invasion had been turned back before it had the chance to affect those in remote locations, like here in the Canadian Rockies. Ramón had been out here for a very long time after all. It was likely he had heard nothing about the rise of heroes.

"I'm sorry," Ramón told him. "I know it seems like I'm giving up to you, boy, but I'm not. I'm going to do my damndest to keep him going for as long as possible. The authorities in Prince Rupert should know you boys and your friends are missing by now. As soon as those skies clear, they're going to be out in force searching for you. There are a few things we can do here to catch their attention when that happens, but . . ." He sighed. "It would be nice if they had somebody to rescue when they finally show up."

* * *

Robin watched as Ramón worked over Conner's wound, and helped where he could, but the woodsman had been correct in that what he did was beyond Robin's first aid preparation. He had tried to breathe through his mouth and not gag, but the battle had been constant as Ramón removed his stitches and reopened the wound.

Conner had regained consciousness as they worked, and that made what all Ramón had to do that much worse. The clone had tried to control his reactions, and, despite a couple of tears that had escaped, he had succeeded for the most part; that is, until Ramón had to abrade the wound. The older man explained that there might be a foreign object, a bit of dirt or sand maybe, still there that was causing the infection, and that this was necessary in order to remove it because the infection would only return otherwise. But Conner couldn't remain stoic for this. He had let go of Robin's hand to clasp the cot's frame as he gasped and cried out; tears of pain flowing freely down his face. It was all the older boy could do not to lash out, but his will was strong even if the pain was terrible.

It was, by far, the worst thing that Robin had ever had to witness, and he had been powerless to make it easier. Robin used his sleeve to wipe his own tears away once it was over. Ramón left the wound open as he cleaned up.

"I have to wash these and sterilize them," he told them as he dropped the soiled bandages into the boiling water. "Once they're dry, I'll apply a light dressing, but we'll need to leave the wound open for a bit. Don't cover it and don't allow Cedric on the cot in the meantime."

As Ramón moved to the other side of the room to do his chore, Conner grabbed Robin's hand again.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm so sorry."

Robin frowned at him. "What are you sorry about? This wasn't your fault, Conner!"

There were still tears in the older boy's eyes as he stared at Robin. Were they from the pain, or something else? Conner struggled to find the words to say what he meant.

"No. No, not that," Conner wiped futilely at his streaming eyes. "I should have been kinder, more understanding, all those times when you or one of the others were injured."

Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You weren't _mean_ , if that's what you're thinking, Conner."

"Not mean, maybe, but not . . ." he looked away and then back again, "compassionate? I think that's the word I want."

He released Robin's hand only to pull the boy forward into a hug. "I'm sorry! I didn't understand what you were going through. If we get out of this, I promise that I'll try harder to protect you guys better."

Robin hugged his friend back. "It's okay, Conner, really. You don't have to go out of your way to protect us. We all know what we do is full of risks, and we train hard to be able to do the job without getting unnecessary injuries. But I've been through a lot, and always managed to come out of it just fine. And you will, too. You'll see . . . You're going to get your strength back soon, and it will be like this never happened."

Conner released him, and Robin held his hand again as he kneeled down next to the cot. "Have I thanked you for saving my life yet?"

"I told you, Old Oily did the actual saving," Conner told him.

"I'm not stupid, Conner. He wouldn't have known I was there if you hadn't jumped in to get me out." Robin insisted.

"You would have done the same for me," Conner said softly. "It's what we do, after all."

Robin nodded. "We're heroes . . . And I just want you to know that you're mine, okay? Thank you for coming after me. You didn't have to, you know. Your powers were gone. No one would have blamed you if you hadn't. I remember how cold and fast that water was."

"Shut up." Conner put his hand over the boy's mouth. "Yes, I did. I had to. I would have blamed myself if I hadn't tried."

When Conner removed his hand, Robin's mouth was tight with determination. " _You're going to be fine_ ," he insisted. "We're going to go home and forget all about this in no time."

"I'm _not_ going to forget this."

"Either way, we're going to get out of this," Robin repeated. "I promise."

Conner let his head drop back onto the pillow; exhausted. "That's a mighty big promise there, young'un."

Robin grinned. "You sounded just like him," he whispered, peering over his shoulder at their host.

Conner snorted. "Old Oily kind of grows on you after a while."

"His name is . . ."

"Ramón," Conner said at the same time. "Yeah, I know. But 'Old Oily' seems to fit him better, don't you think?"

Robin stood up. "I think you need to get some more sleep," he said lightly, but Conner was already out.

* * *

The evening came on quickly as it was wont to do in the mountains. Night was suddenly upon them as the sun disappeared behind the craggy peaks. Conner's wound was left open, but covered lightly with gauze to keep it clean. Ramón tore up his only other linen and folded half to catch any drainage. He'd replace it after a while with the other half while he washed and dried the soiled one.

Robin was curled up on the floor near the fire with a blanket and a pillow. He didn't want to crowd Conner or accidentally brush against his wound. Old Oily . . . _Ramón_ , he corrected himself, was asleep in the rocking chair; Cecil tucked in beside him.

He climbed to his feet and back onto the table quietly with his penlight stuck between his teeth. He leapt up and caught hold on one of the rafters again, and hauled himself up. What other stuff did their host keep stashed up here? Anything else that might help his cause?

There were a couple of crates balanced across the boards, and over the next half hour, Robin went through both of them. Finally, just as he was ready to give up, he found it.

Ramón hadn't needed this for years obviously. The older man probably even forgot he had it here. Robin tucked it into the pocket of his shirt and swung back down. Decision made, he returned to his place by the fire.

It was early yet; although this was about the time when Batman would return Robin back to the cave if he were back in Gotham City. Seldom did Bruce allow him to stay up later than one o'clock during the school year. He had long since learned to fall asleep whenever and wherever he could, and Robin dropped off quickly; his internal alarm set.

If he planned to do this, he would need to get dressed and be out of here before the sun came up in the morning . . . Before Ramón could do anything to stop him.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Kryptonian physiology is different from human, and Conner's was an odd mix of both. It makes sense that infections and medications, not even antibiotics, wouldn't work the way they would be expected to. The question remains; is Robin risking life and limb for meds that might not even work on his teammate** **.**

 **I know you are waiting for the POVs of League members and their teammates. They are coming in just 2 or 3 chapters from now.**


	19. Journeys

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

Roy finished securing one of the haunches of deer in the net he had taken from one of his trick arrows. He would leave the other here. He hated to because it was very likely they would need it before anyone from the Justice League would arrive, but he couldn't easily take it with them. Bringing it here was different because the cave had been his destination. They didn't have a destination today.

Last night, he and Artemis planned their route as best they could as they took care of their injuries. Neither were seriously hurt, but he had needed to split her pants along the thigh where they had been shredded in order to apply two butterfly Band-Aids to the scratches given to her by the wolf she had fought off. She was lucky, he had told her again. Artemis had snorted, but kept her comments to herself until he was finished when she had quietly thanked him for his help.

At least she wasn't so prudish anymore. He had ripped the material only as much as he had to in order to clean and assess the depths of the scratches. He had stitched the material closed haphazardly as best he was able while she was still wearing them all without a word of protest from his patient, and then wrapped his one bandage around it to help protect her skin from the cold through her compromised suit. It had been odd; her quietness. Roy remembered her face when he had asked her if she was feeling alright afterwards and felt her forehead. He had felt relieved when she batted his hand away, and snarked at him with her usual sarcasm.

They planned to retrace their route to the river; making their way down the steep incline further along, through the trees, from where Artemis had fallen. The slope seemed to become less sharp further away from the bridge they went. He could use the trees to lower themselves down safely and avoid Artemis' experience from yesterday. They would use an hour only to locate the rifle. If they couldn't find it in that amount of time, it would have to wait until the League arrived.

They wanted most of the day to travel downstream in the direction Artemis suspected the other half of their team had gone. Then before they lost too much of the light, they would need to look for shelter again. He had to be prepared in case they weren't lucky to stumble onto another cave, and he was forced to actually build it. He hadn't any experience building a shelter out of the snow itself, but he knew how, at least in theory, that he thought he could manage it well enough.

In preparation for this journey, the two had spent the rest of the evening lashing together some of the thinner, more flexible branches into makeshift snowshoes. Roy was wearing his and he had to admit, they had done a pretty decent job of it. His feet should remain reasonably dry, and they should be able to make better time on top of the snow rather than having to plow their way through it. They weren't especially comfortable, but even with frequent rests, he suspected they would be able to travel a good distance before they needed to stop.

"Are you ready, princess?" Roy stuck his head back into the cave.

Artemis looked up at him helplessly. She was sitting, after strapping her feet into her own homemade snowshoes, looking out of her depths.

"What's wrong?" He asked her.

She laughed. "How do I stand up in these things?"

They were big enough that she couldn't put her feet flat without leaning back and lifting her bottom up, and then she was so off-balanced that she couldn't push herself into an upright position.

Roy grinned and held out a hand. With a grunt, Artemis took it and let him pull her to her feet. He was laughing as he back out ahead of her and watched as she took several cautious steps forward.

"You look like a duck," he told her. "A clumsy duck with big feet."

"Gee, thanks," she laughed at the visual, "because that's exactly how I feel. Are you sure these are going to work?"

"Positive. I was out here on mine and did fine." He handed her her bow and quiver of arrows.

After getting situated, she picked up a bundle of firewood; all broken to short, manageable pieces. She slung it over her back; tying it to her quiver to free up her hands.

"I figured it would save us time if we didn't have to search out dry firewood later on," she shrugged one shoulder.

"That's a good idea," he praised her lightly. "More time to travel; more time to set up a new shelter. And with you carrying it, it should stay dry."

She smiled. "That's what I thought, too."

"You ready now?"

Artemis glanced back at the cave. "It feels a little scary; leaving it and knowing we won't be back."

"It isn't likely," Roy agreed.

He clambered up the packed snow drift before turning and holding out his hand again. Artemis took it without hesitation and allowed him to help her up. She looked a little surprised when the snow held her. Her new snowshoes only sank in a couple of inches. She grinned.

"They work!"

Roy laid a hand over his heart and tried to look hurt. "You doubted me?"

"Well, Navajo country isn't exactly set in the arctic tundra, you know," she snarked, but softened her tone a second later. "But, no. It wasn't you I was doubting."

Roy frowned. "You doubted yourself?"

"Just my snowshoe-making abilities." She smirked. "I can still kick your ass with a bow."

He barked with sudden laughter. "You wish, princess. Now, come on. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

"Right," she agreed and took a few tentative steps; prepared for the moment when the snow would give way beneath her.

"Don't shuffle so much. It will get too much snow over your boots and make your feet cold," he instructed as he took the lead. "Lift them up a bit."

"Yeah, I can see where this is going to make me sore tomorrow," she muttered as she tried to catch up to him.

The kind of walk that was necessary with snowshoes wasn't natural; your gait was wide and you had to lift your knees higher than normal. It was easy to trip yourself as well as both of them discovered. Artemis was getting frustrated after her third faceplant until Roy got his own snowshoes caught up on one another and landed face first in the snow next.

"Yeah, yeah, it wasn't _that_ funny," he snarked as he struggled to regain his feet. It wasn't working, however.

The snow wouldn't support his weight on his hands, and they kept breaking through the crust beneath the softer top layers of snow. With the snowshoes on, Roy couldn't push himself up. After several minutes of this, he heaved a sigh of annoyance, and held up a hand.

"Aw, you need some help?" Artemis crooned, her own frustrated mood dramatically improved.

"Shut up and give me your hand," Roy groused, but there was no heat in it. "And make sure you have your balance first," he added quickly. "Last thing we need is for you to fall down, too."

She giggled at the vision of the two of them flopping around like two landed fish, unable to regain their feet with the unwieldy snowshoes strapped to them. A minute of grunting and finally Roy was back up.

"Uh huh, yuck it up, princess. Next time _you_ land on your face, I'll just leave you there," he threatened with a smile.

It wouldn't be impossible to do it on her own. It just required taking off the snowshoes and strapping them back on once she was in a seated position. It would take entirely too much time, but Roy thought it might be worth it just to watch her struggle through the process alone.

 _Nah_ , he decided a second later. She still had her bow and arrows with her. He wouldn't be surprised if she took a little revenge for that kind of prank with one of her trick arrows. Considering he wasn't sure what all she still had in her quiver, he decided to play it safe.

They made much better time than they had the previous day. He should have suggested this earlier, but truth be told, he just didn't consider it at the time. The Navajo Reservation lay across Arizona, Utah, and New Mexico, and survival in a desert required different skills than this heavily-wooded, mountainous region. They still got snow and had some trees, but it was nothing like this.

When he hunted here, it had been within the trees, and the branches kept the snow beneath them more manageable than it was out here in the open. But being beneath the trees held its own troubles and dangers. So, they would spend the majority of their journey out in the open.

* * *

Cecil almost gave him away. Robin's ninja skills had nothing on the little fox's hearing. It jumped down and wound through Robin's legs as he tried to pull his pants on; its fur tickling his bare skin wherever the fox found it. Robin tugged on his tunic next; his fingers tracing his stitches along the line where Ramón had cut him out of it.

Conner was right. His suit was compromised, but Robin wasn't worried about it. It was sufficient to keep out the cold as long as he didn't end up in the river again, but it wouldn't stand up in a fight. Luckily, he didn't think he would find any of those on the way to Ramón's cabin. He had cut strips off of his blanket and wrapped his feet for socks. He wasn't sure where his had gone, but he suspected a little fox had found them. Boots came next.

He looked over to find Cecil snuffling at the pouches on his belt again. Ever since the smoke pellet incident, the fox was fascinated with the belt. Robin had been forced to shut it away in the trunk to keep the little pest from searching out new and better toys. He picked Cecil up and set him on the other side on him, then picked up his belt as he stood up. It was a little difficult to attach with the buckle broken, but it hooked after a little finagling.

Cecil pawed his legs; wanting to be held. Sighing, he picked him up and scratched his belly; much to Cecil's delight. Twisting suddenly, the fox scrambled over Robin's shoulder and draped himself around his shoulders, much as he often did with Ramón. It made Robin grin as Cecil rubbed the top of his head along the boy's jawline lovingly.

It made him wish he could take the fox along with him for the company and the extra warmth, but Cecil was safer here; away from predators. Robin had already planned his route on the map he had found in the box up top in the rafters. He folded the map carefully and tucked it into a pouch for safekeeping. If he lost it, he would become disoriented out there in no time. Robin had no doubt that should that come to pass, he would die in that wilderness. Conner was too sick now for Ramón to leave him in order to come after Robin.

There would be no rescue from that quarter.

He looked over at his teammate . . . His _friend_. In this past week, Conner had progressed far past that of a mere colleague, and if he were honest, in the last couple of days, even friendship seemed too shallow a term. Somewhere along the way, Conner had crossed that indefinable line in Robin's heart into a place reserved for family. If he could have had a brother . . .

There was Wally, and Roy, too, back before he became Red Arrow and grew apart from them . . . They were close. Kaldur was as well in his own way. Batman complained that he was too sentimental. Robin realized that he was right. It didn't stop him from getting emotionally attached to people, though.

Conner was shivering despite wearing one of Ramón's shirts and the several blankets piled high on top of him. That was new. Robin laid one hand on his forehead and pulled it away.

 _That damned fever_!

The aspirin did nothing anymore to bring it down. And now chills on top of it all. He resisted the urge to check his bandage. He hadn't the time to do all the things that needed to be done in order to clean it. The antibiotics were Conner's only hope at this point.

He wasn't sure it would be a good idea to wake the older boy. If Conner accidentally woke up their host . . . It was still possible for Ramón to stop him. The man was big and Robin had a feeling he was fast as well. It wouldn't have made a difference if Rob was on top of his game, but, if he was being honest, he knew he was still recovering. There wasn't any reason to lie to himself. Ramón was right about that, but Conner was depending on him, and weak or not, Robin wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't at least try.

The idea that the clone would die before he could return caused Robin's heart to clench in fear. Tears sprang to his eyes and the young teen scrubbed them off angrily.

He wouldn't! He couldn't! Robin refused to consider it. He pulled his mask from where it had been tucked and in seconds had reapplied it to his face. The barrier it provided allowed Robin to shove those unhelpful emotions into a compartment in the back of his mind. He couldn't afford them now. They would only slow him down.

He shoved his hands into his gloves. He picked up the blanket he had been using and folded it; shoving it behind his back. He didn't have his cape anymore, but if he needed to rest or if the wind picked up, the blanket would help him ward off the cold. He wished he had his grapple gun, but he had lost it in the river.

Bending over Conner, Robin shook him.

"Conner!" He whispered directly into the older teen's ear. "Conner, wake up!"

It took too long for him to respond. Robin was beginning to get scared when Conner finally opened his eyes. The blue was glassy and Robin waited impatiently for him to be able to focus on his face. He blinked and frowned at the boy sitting next to him. Robin didn't know whether to laugh or cry at his expression which was at once so confused and yet so familiar.

"R-Robin?" Conner rasped; his voice hoarse and dry.

"Hang on, Conner," Robin ran over and poured him some water.

It had been cold some hours ago, but had warmed over the course of the night. He brought it back and held it to his friend's lips. Conner was the physically strongest person Robin knew beyond Superman, and it destroyed him to see the young clone too weak to hold the cup. When Conner indicated he'd had enough, Robin set the cup down.

"I'm going out now," he whispered. "I'm going to get you the antibiotics you need. I don't want you to worry, though, because I'm coming back, okay?"

"Where . . . are you . . . going?" Conner panted. His respirations were too fast.

"To the cabin," he explained again. "To get the medication, remember?"

"Y-You'll . . . come . . . back?"

 _Oh God_ , _Conner had to be confused if he thought Robin would leave and not return for him_! _I can't wait any longer_.

"I'm coming back. I promise! You _wait_ for me; do you hear me?" Robin put his face into Conner's in an effort to keep the older boy's attention. "You have to wait right here . . . for me! Don't go anywhere!"

"I'll . . . stay . . . here," the young Kryptonian promised.

"You wait for me," Robin insisted, "until I get back. You got that?" _Don't you die on me, Conner_!

"Waiting . . ." Conner dropped his head back onto the pillow; exhausted and shivering.

Robin pulled the covers up to his chin, but Conner had already fallen back into a fitful doze. Fear was a knot in his gut, and he suddenly wished he had left last night instead, but at the same time, he understood the foolishness of that impulsive action. The night got too cold. He would have never lasted out in it.

As it was, he was leaving a half an hour before sunrise. The sky was only now just starting to lighten beyond the distant peaks; the cloud cover making the promised dawn gray. He would have to move fast and hard to keep his body temperature up until the sun rose high enough to do the same. But Robin was under no delusion that the day would be much better.

The snow was still falling, but lightly now. The storm was finally petering out, but not soon enough. He had no clue when rescue would come, and he couldn't sit and wait; praying the League would arrive quickly enough to be able to save Conner's life. It was a sobering reality that sometimes the heroes didn't always make it in the nick of time to save the day. Sometimes they came days, hours, even missing the mark only by minutes.

Robin took Cecil from around his neck and laid him on his pillow. He grabbed the snowshoes that he repaired and made for the door. He had opened it and the wind nearly yanked it out of his hand. Robin caught it before it could slam into the wall and make a big noise, but it didn't matter. The cold had done the deed.

"Don't forget that nifty, little doodad in your brother's pocket," Ramón called out from his rocking chair.

When Ramón made no move to try and stop him, Robin hesitated.

"I _have_ to go," he told the man; their savior. "He'll not make it without those pills. _And I won't let you stop me_!"

"I don't reckon to, young un," Ramón assured him. "When I saw you searching those boxes so thoroughly last night, and saw the job you had done on those ratty, old snowshoes . . ." he sighed. "I knew there would be no stopping you. But if you're going to leave, you're going to need a few more things."

Robin was surprised. He thought he had been quiet. He hadn't been aware that the man had woken up while he had been rummaging through the boxes. Ramón hadn't said anything about it last night.

He eased the door closed, but remained near it in case the biologist pulled a fast one on him. The man was a little underhanded in getting his own way, Robin thought as he remembered how Ramón had tricked Conner in order to get his temperature.

Ramón stood up, and moved to the cupboard. He took out a second tin mug and a small canvas knapsack. He slid in some dried pieces of jerky next.

"You will need to melt the snow before you drink it," he instructed. "And make sure you stay hydrated. Eat when you can."

Pulling his knife from his belt, sheath and all, he tucked it in as well. "If you run into any critters, you may well need to defend yourself. This will probably come in handier than those smoke pellets you carry."

He moved over to where Conner's own clothes hung on a hook next to the fireplace. He pulled something out of the pocket.

"I was searching for some identification that first night after the Conner had gone to sleep. In case I lost you both," he explained, "I needed something to give to the authorities." he told him. "I only found this on your brother. I must say, I was impressed. Never seen one like this before."

Ramón handed Robin the bag and . . . The boy's eyes widened in surprise.

"My grapple gun! Conner had it all this time?" He took it gratefully.

"It has a bat on it. After seeing a bat on a few of the items you carried in the belt of yours, I had a feeling it belonged to you." Ramón said. "Have a thing for bats, do you?"

"Batman does," Robin murmured; staring at him. "You went through my belt?"

If the electronics in his belt hadn't shorted out, the man would have gotten a hard shock just trying to get it off of him; let alone searching through it. It wouldn't have killed him; Batman didn't do lethal, and neither did Robin, but the big man might have been boasting blackened fingertips in the normal course of things.

Ramón was unapologetic. "Identification, you understand. Despite the assurances I gave to Conner that night, I wasn't sure that you'd make it. And I was worried about that gash in his leg right from the start. It was too deep and being submerged in the river . . . He was bound to get an infection from it." He looked over at the body on the cot. "I didn't think it would get so bad so quickly, however."

"Then you know why I have to go," Robin said. "His fever is up, but he has chills and has some difficulty focusing. He seems a little confused."

"I'll take care him," Ramón promised. "There's a locked cabinet in the kitchen area. It stands off a little to the sides and has a glass panel in the front. I keep medical supplies in it. You can use that canvas bag to stock up on things; bring'em back here. Bandages, ointments and the like. Bring what you can carry, but don't overload and slow yourself down.

"The antibiotics are in a prescription bottle. They're a broad-spectrum kind; I don't have nothing specific-like. There may be four or five pills there. Not much, but if you can make it back in time, we might be able to hold things off until the weather clears." He told him. "There's an old ham radio on the counter. Don't know what kind of reception you'll get, but you should try to contact the ranger station. Use frequency band twenty-two. Perhaps they can get a chopper out here for your brother, and get you both to a hospital, and back to your family."

Robin nodded; filing the information away. Suddenly he was extremely happy with all those memory exercises Batman was always having him do.

"Right. Band twenty-two. Got it."

"You know how to use a radio like that?" Ramón was concerned.

"I've been shown how before," Robin assured him.

The biologist got down on one knee and took the boy by the arms. His hands were so big, they nearly engulfed the whole of Robin's upper arms. He gave the boy a little shake.

"You be careful. If you rest, do not fall asleep!" Ramón told him. "Be aware of your surroundings. We have mountain lions, moose, and elk, and don't forget about my wolf pack. Make a little noise as you travel. Moose and elk won't hunt you, but they might charge you if you startle them. Mountain lion and wolves are crafty, though."

Robin's eyes widened at the reminder of the many predators out there. He was used to the human variety. The animal kind . . . not so much!

"Trees might save you from the wolves, but they'll probably wait you out. They work together and will easily outflank you if you aren't careful. I try not to interact much with them, but we've had encounters. They aren't afraid of humans. Normally, I wouldn't be on the menu, but this storm will make finding prey difficult, and they'll not be as picky when it comes to feeding the pack," Ramón explained intently.

He got up and went to the rocking chair; pulling off the blanket he had been using. "You'll need some kind of cover. I can't imagine your clothes will keep the cold away for long."

"I have one. Thanks," Robin waved off the second blanket. It wasn't like he wouldn't need it, but it would be bulky and hard to carry.

"Right. Well, you should be going . . . Damn it!" Ramón cursed. "I hate this! Don't go getting yourself killed, young'un, you hear? I worked too hard dragging you boys out of that river for you to go out and die of hypothermia three days later."

Robin nodded and opened the door.

"You have the map?" Ramón followed him to the threshold.

"I do." Robin patted the pouch where he kept it. He slung the canvas bag over his head and across his body.

"You'll be looking for a cliff. There's a path that circles around it. The goings hard, but there ain't no help for it." Ramón told him. "The kind of gear you need to scale the cliff is too heavy to be practical even if I did keep it here."

Robin stepped out into the snow and tossed the snowshoes down.

"I never had kids," Ramón muttered; shaking his head. "My wolves are the closest thing I'll ever get to a family, but . . . you two . . . Well, now, you've kind of grown on a body."

When Robin stepped onto the snowshoes, Ramón kneeled down and began strapping them on for him. Robin balanced himself with a hand on the big man's shoulder.

"I've gotten fond of you both." His breath puffed out in front of his face. "You just get there and get back. You understand me?"

Robin smiled. "Thank you. I will . . . Take care of him for me."

A big paw of a hand ruffled his hair. He tugged a fur cap out of his back pocket and shoved it on the boy's head. It fell down over his eyes.

"It's too big," Robin complained.

"Wear it anyway. Keeps your head warm," Ramón growled at him gruffly. He lifted Robin out of the path he'd made and on top of the snow drift.

Before the man could do anything else, Robin turned and started off in the direction the map hand indicated. It made him smile, though. Ramón worried more than Batman did. His chest clenched at the reminder. He would _have_ to survive . . . Conner was depending on him, yes, but Batman . . . _Bruce_ . . . He wouldn't do well, if Dick didn't make it home. He set his jaw, determined.

Dick was going to make it home.

"Oh, and Robin?" Ramón's voice followed him across the snow as he gave one last piece of advice.

Robin paused; turning just enough so that the man knew he was listening.

"Mountain lions can climb trees, too!"

* * *

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	20. Hide and Seek

**No Warnings . . .**

* * *

"Are you sure this was where it fell?" Roy wiped sweat from his forehead. It was not a good thing to sweat while out in this kind of weather. Being damp only made it easier to lose body heat.

Artemis looked above her; attempting to judge from where exactly the laser rifle had fallen when the weather and circumstances had stripped the area clean and covered it with several inches of snow. There was nothing left to mark the battle that had taken place here three days ago.

"I remember looking down and seeing it fall into the brush. It was at least a couple of feet from the river's bank," she said as she peered around them.

"I remember the wind was pretty strong," Roy remarked. "Do you think it could have blown the rifle a bit as it fell?"

"I don't know . . . maybe," Artemis admitted with growing frustration.

Roy had only allotted the search an hour before they would need to abandon it to head off downstream. They had discovered Robin's batarang and the line from it as it had fluttered in the wind gusts while they searched for the probable area that the rifle had fallen. They took it as proof that the boys had made it down safely, and it gave them hope that Conner and Robin had been uninjured enough to be able to look for some kind of shelter in which to wait out the storm as they had.

They moved slowly until they both stopped as if by some unspoken agreement. They looked down at the snow-laden ground between them. The water was loud as it rushed by them so close. Roy gently tugged Artemis away from the riverbank. As with the steep incline of the previous day, the snow could easily disguise the true edge. He had no desire to pull her ass from the icy-cold river.

The whitewater aspect of it promised injury on top of the guarantees hypothermia. With no promise of shelter close by, a plunge now would equate to a death sentence. That she accepted his adjustment of her position meant that she agreed with his assessment, and had no more desire than he to brave the frightening power that was the river.

"Here?" He asked.

She nodded. "Here."

They dropped down to their knees, and pulled off their bows. Their equipment would work at breaking up the harder snow, and assist as shovels. Of course, because they were bows, they weren't very efficient shovels, but it helped all the same. Eventually, only one of them worked at breaking up the snow while the other pushed the loosened chunks out; switching off every fifteen minutes. They widened the hole enough that one of them could climb down into it. Here the snow reached to Artemis' thighs.

"Trade," Roy told her as he held out his hand. "Let me dig around down there for a bit."

"Sure," she agreed easily.

* * *

Hard to believe they were the same bickering couple that had started this mission a week ago. Artemis moved to a better position, and was raising her arm to him when she paused, and looked down at her feet. Her boot had connected with something hard.

"What is it?" Roy frowned. "Did you find something?"

"I don't know . . . Maybe," Artemis replied. Her attention was elsewhere, though.

She kicked at the snow again, but the water was too loud to hear anything. She could feel the item through her boot enough, however, to think it was something other than a rock. Artemis kneeled down and began digging at the edge of the hole. A few seconds later the thick edge of a muzzle appeared.

She laughed. "Oh my God! I can't believe that worked! After everything that could possibly go wrong, _went_ so spectacularly wrong with this mission, I would never have believed we would find the weapon before the spring melt, let alone this easily."

"The term ' _easily_ ' being relative, princess, but yeah, certainly not without the help of Superman's X-ray vision anyway," Roy grinned. The mission wasn't a total debacle, after all.

She was too tired to be picky over word choice. Success, after so many failures, was completely exhilarating.

"Okay, ' _quickly_ ' then," she smiled as she continued to dig and expose more of the weapon.

She tugged and pulled; trying to ignore the ache in her wrist still present after her tumble yesterday, but the snow was packed in thoroughly. She couldn't get it out. After several minutes of this, Artemis stood and offered her hand again. Roy pulled her up without question.

"My wrist is still too sore to be able to get it out," She admitted a little reluctantly.

But Roy hadn't criticized her before when she had needed a little help. It made her more willing to ask a second time. Still, she found herself bracing for the insults that her father would have heaped on her. A lifetime of experience was hard to shrug off.

No comment ensued as Roy took her place in the hole. A few stabs with an arrow helped to loosen the rifle from its place. With a grunt, the redheaded archer yanked it free. He dusted of the snow, and took a second to run a critical eye over the weapon. Artemis, too, stared at the technological construct.

Because of this rifle, one of their teammates could be suffering . . . or even dead. Artemis bit her lip against the resurgence of worry. Had Conner not be shot by the rifle's energy beam, they might have won the day and captured both her sister and her father, and taken the scientist into custody. Now, the enemy had the scientist and his plans; her criminally-inclined family members were still free to do harm; and their team was . . . torn apart; its members' conditions unknown.

Roy shook his head in disgust, his thoughts obviously mirroring hers, as he tossed the rifle up to her. Artemis caught it and laid it aside. Roy had been prepared to scramble out of the hole by himself, but Artemis held out her good hand to him. They had moved past the antagonism at some point, and she had to admit, if only to herself, that she didn't miss it.

Roy took the proffered hand and climbed up. They had taken longer than their allotted time to find and retrieve the weapon, so they quickly sat down and began strapping their improvised snowshoes back in place. The day was slipping away and they might have miles to go yet.

The rifle was heavier than a normal weapon of its size, but it was easier to lug around than the deer haunch. Artemis slung it over the opposite shoulder than her bow. It bumped against the wood annoyingly, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. So, she was surprised when Roy took her bow from her and slung it over his.

"You didn't have to do that," she told him. "I could have carried it."

"I know you could have, but it doesn't cost me anything to carry it for you," Roy said.

She opened her mouth to let fly a sarcastic comment, but caught it back in time. He wasn't insulting her, Artie reminded herself. He was only trying to help. _Just accept it_ . . .

"Thanks," she murmured; ducking her head and moving past him.

Roy watched her head off downstream with a smirk. "You're welcome . . . princess."

Although she didn't reply to his tease, Artemis _did_ pick up the pace . . . At least as much as her snowshoes allowed her to.

* * *

Robin walked with his head down. The cold hurt his lungs and throat, and was making him cough more often. He hadn't gone, but a hundred yards before he was pulling out the thin blanket he had stuffed in the back of his belt. The wind was at his back, at least, but it kept blowing bits of snow down his neck where it would melt and seep down his back. What he wouldn't do for his cape right about now. The one he lost had a hood on it, and he mourned its loss.

He had wanted to have a cape with a hood for years as a part of his costume, but it was only this year that Batman had agreed to it. Only for his winter uniform, though, and even then it was meant for bad weather only. The condition for it being that Robin could fight effectively blindfolded, in case someone pulled it down over his face, and that it wouldn't affect his acrobatics.

This year he had proven he could fight decently without sight, not well enough for the hood to remain year-round, but he would take what he could get. He refused to admit that Batman had been right that it would be a hindrance while he was flipping around. He had simply made allowances for it and so far, it hadn't been a real issue, but considering the only place Robin had worn the cape outside of the Batcave had been during this mission . . . Yeah, where it had promptly caught on a jagged piece of metal and dragged him beneath the water; almost drowning him in the process.

"Okay, Bruce," Robin said out loud; his voice muffled by the blanket he had pulled over his lower face. "You were right and I was wrong about the hood in the general scheme of things, but even _you_ would admit it would be handy having a cape with a hood on it right about now."

The wind was the only reply, and he shivered. The sun had risen behind the clouds enough that he could see the landscape around him. He glanced behind him. The shack had disappeared ages ago. He figured he had walked about three miles and already his legs, back, and shoulders were aching. Walking in snowshoes was hard.

He snorted. Especially these that had been made for a grown man. Robin's four feet and eleven and a half inch frame left him at a disadvantage while wearing them; having to walk through the snow with an uncomfortable and unnatural gait. He felt like he was hiking while simultaneously straddling a board.

The going was slow, but the alternative was to sit warm and cozy in the shack as he watched Conner die. He would walk until he collapsed rather than experienced that. He had a very real fear that he would return too late, but he wouldn't stop trying.

Robin was forced to stop at the five mile mark. He was beyond exhausted. He got out of the open by heading into the trees. Moving through the underbrush was a challenge. But Robin used the foliage as a wind break as he pulled the map from his belt. He set his compass and his flashlight on top of it to prevent it from blowing away as he studied the topography of the surrounding area.

He was moving steadily toward a higher elevation, and he had been able to see first landmark just beyond the trees. It was higher than Robin had expected it to be. Ramón had mentioned that the cabin was on a bluff, though. He had told him there was a cliff that Robin would have to go around, but Ramón didn't know him very well if he thought something like that would be a deterrent to the young hero.

He tugged the blanket more securely around his shoulders as he studied the key and compared the distance guide to the path marked on the map. Following Ramón's route, Robin would be going long _miles_ out of his way; taking up far too much of his precious time. The topography map showed the different elevations and it appeared that the cliff in question was just over nine hundred feet in height where he would connect with it.

Ramón was right that normal mountain climbing gear was a hindrance; it being far too heavy to hike with in these conditions.

While his line wasn't anywhere close to being long enough for a straight shot, Robin figured that if he took the cliff a section at a time, he could scale it and save hours both coming and going. If he could only move faster in the snowshoes, he could make the trip in even less than the twelve hours it would normally take. He couldn't, unfortunately, so he hoped that the time saved scaling the cliff would more than make up for how slow he took the hike.

Robin had just tucked the map away when movement caught his eye. Not seeing a single sign of life in the entire morning so far, it startled him, and he jumped. Losing his balance in the unwieldy snowshoes; Robin fell on his butt. He stared at the brush; knowing he was at a disadvantage. His hand skimmed over the knife that Ramón had given him, and back to the pouch where he stored his Taser. It had had plenty of time to dry out, so Robin prayed it would work to deter his unwanted company.

Suddenly, a familiar face peeked out from the brush at him, and Robin's hand fell away in shocked disbelief.

"Cecil?" Robin gaped as the small fox bounded over to him gleefully. "Oh no," he exclaimed. "Does Ramón know you escaped? Of course, he does by now. Ah, buddy, you shouldn't be out here with me."

Cecil ignored Robin's dismay to clamber up into his lap. The boy's gloved fingers automatically moved to rub all the right places. Cecil rolled happily in his arms before bounding off and back into the shrubbery.

"Hey! Come back here! Cecil . . . Here boy," Robin called.

He'd feel horrible if something happened to Ramón's pet. Cecil could get lost . . . or eaten! Ramón's warnings of the dangers echoed in his ears. But Robin couldn't waste the time chasing the fox; not with Conner's life was hanging in the balance.

Robin climbed clumsily to his feet. He had rested enough as it was. He knew where he needed to go, so he moved back out into the open. The wind was stronger there, but the going was rougher inside the tree line; slower. Besides, he remembered a few of the lessons Bruce had taught him the couple of times he had taken Dick camping. The weight of heavy snow could break tree branches that could fall on an unwary hiker; injuring, if not killing the person outright.

As he moved back out into the open he spotted Cecil running ahead of him. The fox had apparently been on this journey enough times that he knew where they were going. As Robin watched, Cecil would suddenly stop and nose the snow before running a few more steps and stopping again. He was curious as to what the fox was doing.

Then, abruptly, Cecil leapt up and pounced; diving headfirst in the snow and then digging as if his life depended on it. He did this a couple of more times until all that was visible was the tip of his bushy tail. Robin moved up next to the hole as that tail twitched rapidly. Suddenly, Cecil emerged with a field mouse in his mouth.

"Wow! How'd you do that?" Robin praised him. At least he didn't have to worry about the little fox starving. Cecil could obviously fend for himself; probably better than Robin could.

The fox pranced off to enjoy its breakfast in privacy as Robin trudged on.

The cliff was looming over him now. It was craggy enough that the boy thought he might have been able to scale it easily had it been summer. Lots of handholds and small ledges where he could place his feet. The bottom of the cliff face was peppered with snow-covered boulders, and Robin paused to take off his snowshoes here.

He strapped them to his back and was refolding his blanket when Cecil caught up to him. The fox's face was comically easy to read. He looked confused and curious. _This_ wasn't the way to the cabin.

"It is **_a_** way to the cabin, buddy," Robin explained to him. "It's a shortcut. It's going to save us hours."

Cecil tilted his head as he considered him, and then yowled at him. The noise was different from any Robin had heard from the animal so far, and it startled him. He laughed; pausing to cough a bit more.

"You think I'm nuts. I get it," Robin nodded as he caught his breath. "You don't have to come with me, you know. If you do, you can't be squirming and trying to get down until we're at the top."

He bent down and spread the blanket out. "I hate to leave you on your own, though. Do you trust me?"

Honestly, Robin thought he was going to have to coax the fox close enough to grab him, but Cecil moved onto the blanket and curled up into a ball. It made him wonder if Ramón had ever done something similar before. He wrapped the fox up and then tied the blanket around his neck and slid an arm through the sling he had created. He carefully adjusted the sling to hang behind him and over top of the snowshoes, so as to not get in his way.

He tugged out his grapple gun; attaching a new grapple hook to the end of it that would work better in this environment. Robin moved between the boulders to get into a better position.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered into the wind.

He aimed, and shot off a line. The noise the hook made when clamping into the hard granite rock of the escarpment was blown away with the wind. It had anchored itself almost silently. Robin tugged hard on the line to test it. It felt secure.

Whispering a quick prayer, Robin took a breath and thumbed the recoil. Immediately as he began to rise, the wind buffeted him; making Robin spin slightly. He fought to keep the cliff face in front of him as he struggled to remind himself once again why this was a good idea.

* * *

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 **Want to read any of the deleted scenes and excerpts that didn't quite make the grade? I have a collection of scenes that didn't work for whatever reason, but weren't crappy enough to just get rid of. LOL! Want to see where the story might have went? Here's your chance . . .**


	21. Off The Beaten Path

**A little something to get you through the weekend . . .**

 **Warning: Some Language and Peril . . . (Do not try this at home)**

* * *

"What makes you think they followed the river? We climbed higher up the mountain," Artemis asked as she allowed Roy to help her over a downed tree.

"Call it a hunch," he told her. "We were directly above their location, and yet we heard or saw nothing, right?"

"But you said we could have passed within a few feet of them and never have seen them," she reminded him.

"That's still true," he said, "but we've been up and down the mountain since then, and our shelter is the first place on that climb that was suitable. We barely made it. If they passed that way, they would have had to climb up that steep incline and then climb even higher than we were."

"Maybe they went into the trees?"

Roy shook his head. "No. Maybe Conner might have, but Robin knows better. He would have stopped him. The trees are too dangerous. When I was hunting, I found a lot of downed branches that were large enough to kill someone if he were hit by it when it fell. There is no way that Rob would have risked that."

Artemis thought about that. "Okay, but then what if Robin was hurt? Conner might have taken him into the trees thinking they would provide a windbreak if nothing else."

Roy frowned, but didn't look over. The way was littered with hidden obstacles that even walking atop the snow didn't prevent them from finding. Both of them had already fallen twice over the past mile.

"I'm beginning to think that maybe that is a possibility," he admitted.

"What? Which part?" She ducked to avoid a branch.

"That maybe Rob was hurt," Roy sighed.

Somehow, even though she had brought it up and they had both admitted that the likelihood that the boys could have survived the storm was slender to none, Roy's admission startled her. Artemis stopped to stare after him; her heart pounding in her chest.

"W-Why would you say that? I thought you said the batarang was proof that they survived the fall from the bridge."

"Did you leave anything behind that night? Any lines or arrows?" Roy stopped and faced her; several feet separating them. "You didn't, did you?"

Just the one arrow high in the tree had been the only thing Artemis hadn't been able to retrieve. She knew what Roy was getting at. They didn't know how long they would be stuck out here, and every resource they had was as valuable as gold.

"The batarang?"

He nodded. "Conner might have left it. He's not used to depending upon anything but his own brute strength to get by. He could have easily not thought a thing about leaving something as valuable as that batarang and its line behind, but you can bet your life that Robin wouldn't have . . . for exactly the same reason you retrieved everything you could. His life depends on what he carries in his utility belt. He wouldn't have left it behind if he could have helped it."

"Meaning . . . he couldn't help it," she summed it up for him.

"Conner's smart, though. He might have considered taking it if he had had time to think about it," Roy hypothesized. Rob was the better detective, but he was no slouch. "He might have needed to leave in a hurry . . . Or vice versa. If they had had to beat feet, maybe Rob just didn't have the time to grab the batarang."

"What would have made them leave in a hurry like that?" Artemis asked herself. "The wolves? But they were above the incline on the same level with us. Would they have chased the boys and then doubled back after us in a storm?"

"Doesn't seem likely, does it?"

Artemis gaze listed in the direction of the river at the same time as Roy's. They stared at the powerful, rushing water as it swept past them. It dipped and roiled around hidden and not so hidden boulders. Traveling that way would be dangerous even in a raft; _even_ for someone experienced with whitewater.

"Do you think . . .?" Artemis' voice tapered off weakly.

"One or both of them landed in the water? It would make sense," he murmured, but God, he prayed he was wrong.

"That would kill them," she whispered. "That would kill them," she repeated louder.

"We have to assume that at least one of them made it out," he told her. "If one of them fell into the river, the other would have followed."

"And he would have had to move quickly in order to keep his teammate in sight," Artemis said. "He wouldn't have time to retrieve things like batarangs."

Roy turned and continued walking downstream. Artemis followed silently.

"It's possible that we're completely wrong. I mean, we have no idea what really happened," she finally blurted.

Roy sighed. "You're right. You're right. It's just a theory and probably a stupid one at that." He didn't want to believe it any more than Artemis did.

He was watching his footing which was the only reason that Artemis saw it first.

"Roy! Look!" Eyes wide, Artemis pointed toward the river.

A line stretched from a branch near the river's edge only to disappear into the churning water. Ice coated the line and when one followed it up, there was, still caught in the tree's limb, a grapple hook. They didn't have to look for the small imprint of a bat symbol to know who it belonged to.

Roy caught the line and pulled it out of the water. Mixed feelings washed over them both when they found nothing on the other end of the reinforced monofiliment; no grapple gun and no broken bird. Artemis fell to her knees and burst into tears. Her fingers dug into the icy clumps of snow; yanking a broken branch out of the white stuff and threw it, with a scream of frustration, into the rampaging river.

Roy said nothing at her outburst. He had already learned that she would be embarrassed by her loss of control; no matter how well-deserved it might be; no matter how brief it lasted. The same emotions ran through him. Anger that they hadn't found their friends yet, and an equal part relief for exactly the same reason.

That Roy wasn't losing it alongside her resided only in the fact that there had been no body on the other end of Robin's line when he had pulled it out of the water. Hope, the cruel bitch she was, still clung to his heart, even as his mind told him they couldn't have survived that. He busied himself with the task of untangling the grapple hook in an effort to free his mind from the, thankfully, unrealized image of the two of them having dragging their friends' frozen, lifeless bodies from the raging waters.

His brain didn't remain numb for long.

"Okay," he growled; his voice gruff with unspent emotion. "Someone went into the water. That doesn't mean both of them did. Someone detached the line from Robin's grapple gun. If Rob was still in the water, I seriously doubt he would have done it himself."

Artemis had already climbed clumsily back to her feet; back in control of herself. If it weren't for her shiny, bloodshot eyes, one might never have guessed she had broken down for those few minutes. But looking at her, none of those emotions were in evidence anymore. She was as numb as he felt.

"Conner," she murmured. "That still leaves Conner unaccounted for."

Roy didn't feel like theorizing anymore. He couldn't come up with a theory that was acceptable to them, and he really didn't want to be proven right with his dire predictions. Artemis, he could tell, had lost what hope she had. She no longer believed they would find either one of their teammates still alive, but was continuing onward because . . . because . . .

What the hell else had they left to do?

So, they would continue to search, if, for nothing else, then for the bodies . . . because he knew that neither Artemis or himself could stand the thought of leaving their teammates out here alone. They would find them if, for nothing else, than to take them home.

Oddly enough, the two archers had somehow reversed their positions on the fate of their friends. Artemis had already begun mourning them, but without bodies, Roy found himself still clinging to hope. It was battered to within an inch of its life, but even beaten down as it was, hope remained.

"Conner," Roy agreed, half-heartedly. "Right. We still need to find them."

The wind and the roar of the river drowned out the shushing sounds of their snowshoes and they followed the path downstream. No bickering, no bantering, no sort of conversation accompanied their trek this time.

* * *

Robin's fingers were aching through the gloves as he clung to the granite face of the cliff. The toes of his boots rested on a sliver of rock barely two inches in width. His grapple hook was stuck in a split in the rock just above his head. It was wedged in tight and refused to release.

He could have left it if he still had his other grapple hook with him, but he had lost it at the same time he had lost the grapple gun in the river. Conner had retrieved the gun, but hadn't taken the time to do the same for the hook itself. Considering he was intent on saving Robin at the time, he certainly couldn't fault the older boy his decision. Those few minutes were likely all that had stood between him and certain death. Ramón might have returned to the shack in those minutes before Conner could arrive on the scene, and then they would have both died out here.

As it was, this current predicament wouldn't even be that big of an issue if it were any other season but winter. The cold was hard enough to deal with. Although his suit was insulated, Robin was still shivering which really wasn't helpful when clinging to a sheer rock face four hundred feet above the valley floor. Had it been warm, however, he might have been able to free climb up the rock from here.

 _Might have_ . . . Robin snorted.

He looked above him. He had another five hundred feet left to go. If he were honest, this might be even a little beyond his scope on a good day. He looked for convenient hand and foot holds. Stretching up, he fit his boot against the next tiny ledge and pulled himself up the last few feet until he was even with his hook.

Robin bit his lip as he grabbed it with his right hand and attempted to wrestle it free. He tried twisting it; moving it up and down; jerking on it which, in hindsight, would have been a terrible idea had it actually come free at that point. He had no choice, however, but to free it unless he were to lower himself back down, but with only two hundred feet of line, he would be force to climb the last two hundred feet free style, and then still hike halfway around the mountain.

He growled in frustration, and immediately regretted it as it spurred another coughing fit. Robin clung to his perch as the cold wrenched his breath from his lungs in deep, harsh spasms that threatened to shake him off the side of the cliff. Cecil suddenly squirmed in his sling; his movements sending a thrill of fear shooting through the boy as the movement nearly unbalanced him.

The fox, finding a more comfortable position, settled down, and Robin's coughing eventually subsided, but it left him feeling exhausted as the adrenaline coursing through his system crashed. He squared his jaw, and gripped his hook once more. It would not end this way!

So far from the path that he was supposed to take, if Robin fell, it might take years before any remnants of his body were found. There was a distinct possibility that he was the only one of his team that might get out of this alive. He couldn't fail his team by giving up! Conner was depending on him . . . That was the reason why he chose this, the most dangerous route to reach Ramón's cabin; to give Conner a fighting chance.

"Come on; come _on_ , you stupid hook," Robin jiggled the grapple hook again, and gave it another hard yank.

Little chips broke away as it came loose abruptly in his hand, and suddenly Robin was swinging out from the rock face with only the fingers of one hand and the edge of a boot keeping him from taking a header. Cecil squirmed again when his sling bumped against the granite. Robin's eyes were like saucers, but he kept his cool. He had the hook and it was still attached to his dangling grapple gun. Four hundred feet was a lot of time to reset the hook and shoot off another line, but he preferred not to lose any more headway, let alone experience the sudden stop that would come when he reached the end of his line.

Slamming into the side of the cliff would be brutal. He tried not to think about the fact that doing so would likely be enough to cause him to lose his grip of the gun.

He steadied himself and carefully tucked the hook beneath his chin. This was the tricky part. If he dropped the hook before he could reclaim his dangling grapple gun, he'd lose them both, and then he'd be screwed. So many damned things that could go wrong . . .

Taking a breath; not too deep so as spur another coughing fit, Robin grabbed the handle of the gun and gently retracted the loose line. He drew it up and carefully fit the hook into the end of the gun. A magnetic anchor would have been easier as it could be drawn in automatically; not that it would work with granite, but the claw hook required an extra shove to get it into position to fire. He turned the gun and hit the tip of the hook against the stone. The move was followed by a click.

Sighing, Robin raised his arm and fired the hook once more. He felt the vibrations of the hook connecting with the stone above him. When nothing fell back down past him, he gave the line an experimental tug. _Seemed secure enough_ . . . Robin took the extra precaution of attaching part of the line to his belt this time, and then he hit recoil.

The speed was a lot slower than what he might have used had he been swinging between skyscrapers, but the wind became harsher as he rose higher and higher; buffeting him. Robin planted his feet; using them to control his ascent as he continued to scale the cliff's heights. Occasionally, he would have to stop when a coughing fit overtook him, and he would cling to his grapple gun; arms shaking. In hindsight, the idea of securing his line to him physically was a brilliant move on his part. If his arms gave out and he fell, he wouldn't hit the ground, at least.

It took him more than an hour to reach the top. It shouldn't have taken him this long, but the trouble with his hook had cost him valuable time as did all the time he had to pause to rest. The wind as well had slowed him down as well. It was just too strong for him to zip upward at any great speed; not without being sent spinning and swinging, possibly slamming him against the rock needlessly.

He looked up and saw a ledge of snow directly above him. That, too, created a problem. How heavy was that snow? If he brought it down on top of him, would it rip him free and carry him to the ground some nine hundred feet below him?

And, if that wasn't enough, Cecil had just woken from his nap and had begun squirming to be free of the sling!

Robin reloaded his hook. He couldn't see past the snow, but assumed there had to be trees. He could take a chance shooting through the snow; hoping the snow wouldn't collapse and drag him from the cliff face before the hook found a place to anchor. Or, he could anchor his line directly into the rock below the ledge, lie flat in that slight depression he saw, and purposely trigger the collapse.

The risk with the first option was clear. The second option held an added risk of starting a larger avalanche, but he could offset that by using a much smaller explosive; like one that he sometimes used to blow a lock. It shouldn't take much, he thought. Either way, Robin had to do something. The longer he was exposed to the wind, the greater the chance he would develop hypothermia.

Actually, he suspected that he was dealing with the first stages of that already as a particularly strong shudder passed through him.

Cecil was squirming more now; trying to find his way out.

Out of time, Robin chose option two. He anchored his hook, doubled checked that the line was attached to the ring on his belt, and got into position. He swung the sling around to his front so that he could wedge himself into the slight cavity better. Robin patted the lump that was Cecil; hoping to calm him, and then he searched his belt for the tiny explosive he needed.

And it was tiny. The size of a small button, in fact, to better fit inside of a keyhole. Robin pinched the device to activate it and flung it up into the snowy ledge.

The button ricocheted off of the hard ice that made up the bottom of the snow bank. He barely heard the ' _pop_ ' as the button exploded harmlessly in the open air of its descent.

"Aw, crud," Robin muttered in disgust. "You've _got_ to be kidding me!"

If the ledge was frozen to that degree, it would take a stronger explosive than the one he'd just used, but again, to do more meant he risked starting a large avalanche . . . not to mention injuring himself by his proximity to the necessarily bigger explosion.

His dug through his belt and pulled out one of his exploding birdarangs. He activated the device, and flung it into the ledge with all of his might. The sharp edges bit into the ice enough to hold. He covered Cecil's sling with one arm as he ducked his head.

"Please stick, please stick, please stick!" He chanted in the remaining seconds.

This was bigger than a ' _pop_ ' . . . The resultant explosion echoed throughout the valley below him as sharp chips of ice and bits of shrapnel peppered him. It was the closest he'd ever been to one of these explosions. He grunted when he felt several sharp stings. A couple of larger pieces of shrapnel had torn their way through his armor and wedged themselves in his shoulder and arm. Something sliced his cheek. There was a stabbing pain in the back of his neck and again in his thigh . . .

 _How had he thought this was a good idea_?

Robin glanced up in dismay. A sizable chunk had been blown out of it, but the ledge continued to hold. He could feel the warm trickles of blood oozing from the small, multiple wounds the explosion had given him. Although nearly all of his explosives were designed to be nonlethal; proximity mattered. He'd not survive a bigger blast.

Cecil had frozen, and then scrambled around in the blanket. It was only because Robin had practically rolled him in the material that he hadn't found his way free of it yet. He gripped the edges to prevent the fox from tumbling out of his safe nest.

And then he heard it.

The rumble . . .

A loud crack, like a gunshot, sounded above his head, and then the ledge began to move. Robin closed his eyes and turned his head to the side as what seemed like the entire mountain suddenly gave way around him.

* * *

 **REACTIONS? Reviews welcome. ;D**

 **Cliffhanger . . . Anyone?**


	22. Discovery

**That wasn't too long of a wait, was it? To skyywardsongx: Yes, he did.**

 **Warning: Some Strong Language . . .**

* * *

Ramón set the bucket next to the cot. It contained ice he had gathered from the eaves. It wouldn't last long. He really needed to get to the river where he could pry up larger chunks from the edges of the banks. He had taken the flannel shirt that he had loaned young Robin to wear and slit it into several strips. For once Ramón was glad he was such a big man.

He broke up the ice and wrapped it in the strips from his shirt. As he finished each bundle, he tucked it in different places around Conner's feverish body. One at the base of his neck, the next couple under each armpit, and one in between his thighs, close to the groin. Probably a good thing the boy was fading in and out of consciousness as Ramón worried how he'd react to the intimacy, but Conner only groaned in response.

The places were important because that was where the veins and larger arteries lay a little closer to the surface. He could cool Conner's core temperature effectively like this. After his little brother left on his trek to the cabin, Ramón discovered that merely bathing the older boy with cool water was simply not enough. Conner's temperature had spiked mid-morning, reaching the ungodly temperature of one hundred and five.

The aspirin was doing nothing anymore to bring it down.

He had no real hope that Robin would be able to get back in time. He dreaded that moment when Robin would return and he would have to tell him that his brother had left this world and gone on to his reward. But Conner was a fighter. He was hanging on. Ramón would do all he could to help him.

He talked constantly, reminding him that Robin had left to get him medicine and Conner needed to wait for him to get back. And if he wasn't talking to Conner, Ramón talked to God. It was a testament to Ramón's distraction that it was hours before he realized that Cecil wasn't hiding in his basket by the fire.

The mischievous critter had obviously sneaked out of the shack early this morning while Ramón had seen Robin off. Well, the fox _was_ getting a little stir-crazy being all cooped up for days on end. Ramón wasn't really worried about him. Cecil knew the way to the cabin; they'd made the trip there and back numerous times. He would keep the younger boy company and with luck, Cecil's superior senses might give the boy a head's up if danger came looking for him.

Ramón had just stood up when a muffled bang sounded. He frowned and made his way out the door. It was impossible to gauge from where the noise had come with the echo ricocheting all over the valley as it was. He stood outside of the shack, ignoring the brisk wind at his back that ruffled his long hair, and stared off into the distance . . . in the direction that the young'un had gone off in just hours before.

He didn't notice the rumble immediately. In fact, Ramón was just turning to head back inside when the deep sound finally reached him. The crack and crash followed. It sounded like the entire mountain had collapsed. He recognized it right away. One didn't live in these here mountains without becoming intimate with _that_ terrifying sound.

Avalanche!

 _Dear God_ . . . _The boy? Had he been caught in it_?

The cloud of snow rose up over the tops of the trees. Ramón ran a hand over his mouth and beard. He lowered his head shaking it as he turned and walked back inside the shack, closing the door behind him.

This was a big one. Who knew how far it would travel, if it would stop before it reached them or if it would sweep over them in a few minutes. Although he had a path to the river, there was no way of crossing it, he'd still be trapped there. And, of course, he had the older boy to worry about. Conner would never survive a journey to the river, and even if the avalanche didn't reach that far, there would be no more shelter. Ramón figured he might as well just stay right here and finish what he started, making the boy as comfortable as possible in the time he had left.

But what killed him . . . The fever or the avalanche, well, that was going to be the real question now.

* * *

"Hey, did you see this?" Artemis called to Roy.

She really should be paying more attention to where she was going. She was going to wind up on her face before long, but curiosity and the need to think about something other than the dead bodies of her friends had spurred her to bring the laser rifle around.

She was looking at the settings. It surprised her that there were settings in the first place. She noted three of them. Currently the rifle was cranked up to the third one; and she felt a flash of fury on Conner's behalf. But there were two more settings below it. What she assumed to be the highest setting had been labeled red; the middle setting was a lighter, more muted tone of rose; and the lowest setting was a pale pink.

She angled it away from Roy as he walked back to her. The rifle was designed as a weapon against Kryptonians, not humans, but she couldn't imagine that radiation in any form was beneficial to life in general. Who knew what this would do to humans.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked when he was standing behind her. "Time's wasting. We still haven't found Robin or Conner, and we're going to have to stop in a few hours in order to set up some kind of shelter."

"It's not even noon yet," she retorted. "Look! This thing has three settings. I wonder what the difference is between them."

Roy looked where she indicated. "Let's see." He pointed to each setting as he recited off the top of his head. "'Kill Superman', 'Strip His Powers', and . . ." He frowned at the pink color. "I don't know . . . maybe it's a 'Tickle' setting? The League will figure it out."

"Tickle?" Artemis snorted. "Hardly. But this thing was set on red when it hit Conner. It stripped his powers, but didn't kill him outright. I don't think the weapon itself can kill him."

"If the rifle was designed to strip away Superman's powers so he can be killed," Roy thought out loud, "why bother with weaker settings at all?"

Artemis suddenly aimed the rifle at a tree and pulled the trigger. Roy leapt to the side, startled.

"What the hell? Give a guy a little warning, will ya?" He snapped.

A red beam had shot out and struck the tree with devastating force. Wood splintered and the trunk split with a resounding crack. What was left was charred black and smoking.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "How could that _not_ have killed him?"

Roy frowned at the destruction. "Maybe it takes a sustained hit. The beam that hit Conner lasted barely a couple of seconds, tops."

"So," Artemis licked her lip nervously as she considered the implications. "This thing _could_ possibly kill Superman if the beam was left on him for a certain length of time, and not just strip his powers. I don't think Overton knew that."

"Hopefully he won't figure it out anytime soon."

She twisted the dial back to the middle setting. She aimed it at another tree and fired.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked as he stepped out of the way again.

"I want to understand what we're up against here," she told him.

This time even the color of the beam had altered a bit, becoming lighter than the deep, bright red of the high setting, more rose-colored. The beam struck the next tree and while it didn't explode this time, it _did_ catch on fire. The two of them moved closer to the burning wood without conscious thought, their cold bodies craving the heat it produced.

"Ah, wow! That feels good," she murmured, releasing the rifle to rub her arms with her hands. She hadn't realized how cold she had been feeling until now.

"Hm, but not so much if it had hit you," Roy pointed out. He dropped the line that held the haunch of meat so he could hold out his hands. "My fingers were feeling a little numb."

"With this thing, it doesn't seem to matter if the wood is wet or not." She turned around so the heat could warm her back even as she adjusted the knob to its lowest setting. She looked for another target.

Taking aim, she fired a third time. The beam shot out was the palest version: pink. It struck the tree but no destruction nor fire occurred. The snow and ice, however, melted immediately. She walked over to it and touched it carefully.

"It's warm but doesn't appear damaged," Artemis announced.

Roy grabbed her hand and pulled it back. "Radiation?" He reminded her.

"It didn't seem to bother the tree much," she pointed out.

"But let's not touch, okay? At least, not before we get a Geiger counter reading."

Artemis glanced over at him curiously. "Do you have one of those in your quiver?" The guy was surprising well-prepared for, it seemed to her, anything.

He snorted. "Not hardly. That's specialized equipment. Ollie has one stashed back into the Arrowcave but he doesn't bring it out unless he's expecting to need it." He smiled at her. "It's kind of heavy."

"Really? He hasn't shown it to me yet."

"I'm sure he get around to it shortly," Roy remarked. "It isn't all that heavy really to start out with, but the thing wears you down as the night goes on. And as we seldom ever encounter a need for it, it's not worth the effort of carrying it around with you."

"Maybe he should keep it in the Arrowcar?" Artemis suggested. Her lips quirked up in sudden amusement.

"What's so funny?"

"The name. It just sounds funny to me," she admitted. "Have You never thought so? Arrowcave? Arrowcar? I mean, the Batcave, at least, makes sense. Bats live in a cave."

Roy grinned. "So, what would you suggest?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "What about the Quiver? That makes more sense since we store arrows in a quiver, right?"

Roy started laughing at that.

Actually he laughed a lot. More than the joke deserved, anyway. He bent over with a hand on his knee and wiped his streaming eyes with the other. It took a second for her to realize that the inappropriate amount of laughter might be stress-related. He was having trouble catching his breath.

Artemis stepped closer and patted his back.

"Hey! Take it easy," she muttered. "It wasn't _that_ funny."

The look on his face morphed from amusement into something painful. The laughter itself died away, but the tears kept streaming down his face. Roy mopped them away only for them to be replaced by more. His breathing became ragged, and he turned his face toward the river as he waved her away. When his shoulders began shuddering, Artemis stepped back.

She understood. She had lost it about a mile back, after all. It seemed only fair that Roy got his turn. Her embarrassment over her loss of composure was mitigated by Roy's now. Oddly enough, his sudden inability to cope with the mounting stress, the disappointment, and grief made her feel better, like she wasn't the weak link between them. Maybe people just handled the stress differently, but this reminder that Roy was still human and felt the same raw emotions that Artemis was feeling was comforting.

She turned away and fiddled with the rifle as a way to give her teammate a bit of privacy. It didn't take long, just a minute or so before he coughed a few times and straightened back up. He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand over his face. The silence that followed felt a little awkward, so she attempted to fill it in with an idle thought.

"You know," she said conversationally, being careful not to look directly at him, "I think we could melt ourselves a path with this lowest setting and get rid of these snowshoes altogether. Unless you really _are_ worried about the amount of radiation this thing produces."

Roy sniffed and cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. Sure. That sounds like a plan," he agreed, surprising her.

She forgot herself and glanced over at him. "Really?"

Roy's eyes were as red as his nose, but he looked like he was back in control. "The radiation on the lowest setting probably won't hurt us unless we're actually hit with the beam. At this stage, I'm willing to risk it, but we should hang onto the snowshoes. You know, just in case. We don't know how much of a charge the rifle's battery keeps."

"Oh, yeah, good point. So, then, can we these things off for a little while?" she asked, waving a hand at her feet. "My legs and lower back are killing me."

Roy snorted, a half smile returning to his face. "Yeah, mine are too."

It didn't take them long to divest themselves of their makeshift snowshoes. They used the straps they had made to hang the shoes over the backside of their quivers.

Artemis aimed the rifle, sticking the snow along the bank. As it melted, she swept it forward, clearing a long path in front of them. The ground was slightly muddy but it was frozen beneath the top inch or two, so it didn't prove difficult to traverse. The second time she used it, she moved it faster and allowed a thin layer of frost to remain, enabling them a way to avoid the mud altogether.

"This is much easier," she noted.

"It is that," Roy answered, distractedly. "Artie, _look_! Up ahead!"

Following his line of sight, Artemis promptly forgot that she hated to be called 'Artie'. "Oh my God! Is that . . . Is that the baggage car?"

But, Roy was already running ahead. She took off after him. It looked like half the car was gone. What was left of it was wedged in between two large boulders and nearly completely submerged. They could see that the occasional suitcase had caught in overhanging branches of some of the trees lining the river, bits of clothing were also dotting the shore.

As they neared the wreckage, Roy slowed down. As Artemis caught up to him, she saw what had grabbed his attention. Her breath caught in her throat.

"What do you think? Is it safe to hope now?" Artemis asked softly.

A path had been cleared here in the snow from the riverbank, leading up and over a small ridge. This was no animal path. This could only have been made by human hands.

Roy stood on the bank, his gaze scouring the river and wreckage critically for any sign of Robin or Conner. He couldn't tell, however, if there was anything submerged beneath the swiftly moving water. Unable to dive beneath the churning water to be sure, he turned around, bending to inspect the path. His fingers traced a large bootprint.

"Conner's?" Artemis asked. "Is it Conner's, do you think?"

Roy shook his head slowly. "I-I'm not sure. I don't think Conner's foot is that big. I'm thinking it might belong to someone else."

Artemis turned in a circle, her eyes searching the area for some form of habitation but found nothing. But the path was proof that they weren't out here alone, after all.

"Should we continue to follow the river, or should we follow the path?" She asked him.

"I don't think it is a coincidence that the path leads to the wreckage," Roy told her.

When he looked at her, she could see his determination. Whoever made this path would have answers.

"Lead the way." She slung the laser rifle over her shoulder and gestured him forward.

The path was packed down well enough that they could walk it without either melting it or putting on the snowshoes. But, it wasn't especially wide, so single file it was, then, with Roy leading the way. They hadn't gone more than twenty yards, however, when an explosion sounded off in the distance. It echoed throughout the hills around them.

"What was that?" Artemis gasped.

" I'd hate to guess, but that _could_ have been one of Rob's exploding birdarangs," Roy muttered distractedly. Alert and worried, he pick up the pace. "It came from somewhere up ahead."

"How could you tell? It sounded like it came from everywhere at once."

"It came from there first." He pointed. "The echoes sounded a second or three later from several other locations before repeating itself in the original spot."

"You figured it out that fast?" Artemis stared at him in awe because that was just . . . Wow!

He shrugged. "It was a game I played with some of the other kids growing up."

"Nothing normal, like basketball to fill your time, hm?" She teased. It was another little clue that Roy's childhood wasn't exactly normal, but then again, neither was hers.

"Nope." He snorted. They pressed on, jogging now.

Artemis had to work a little harder to keep up with his longer stride, but she didn't mind. Her heart was pounding with renewed hope. Maybe . . . Just maybe, they would find Conner or Robin still alive at the end of this.

* * *

Another sound rose up, causing Roy to slow in response.

"Is that thunder?" Artemis asked, stopping just behind him.

"No." He shook his head. "That explosion we heard in the distance . . .?" he glanced back at her with a worried expression. "I think it may have started an avalanche."

Her eyes grew round. "Like the one that nearly swallowed me yesterday?"

The rumbling grew louder.

"No. Not like the one you started yesterday," Roy told her, swallowing hard. "Much, much bigger than that."

Instead of running back the way they came, like a sane person, Roy ran forward. Cresting the rise allowed him to see above the trees to the granite cliffs beyond. A wall of white appeared to be sliding over the edge like a giant waterfall. He could glimpse a flash of color here and there that he recognized as a few trees. It was still quite a distance away but the question remained: how far would it travel?

His eyes searched the landscape in front of them. Another larger rise in elevation stood off in the distance. Would it provide a break, or would the snow reach it only to pour down over it? It could potentially burying everything in its path, including them!

It was then that Roy spotted a small shack across the way . . . A shelter with a working fireplace, he noted, as wisps of smoke rose up from the stone column that made up the chimney. The path they were on led directly to the door and had yet another path that led off to cluster of woods to the right of the tiny cabin.

"Oh my God," Artemis breathed beside him. "Do you think the guys could be in there?"

Honestly, Roy was more than a little worried that Robin had been behind that avalanche. I so, they might not find the boy until the spring thaw. As he watched, the snow was beginning to taper off. Only a thin line was continuing to spill over the lip of the cliff now. That a wave of snow wasn't, even now, barreling down towards them was a good indication that they would be safe at this distance.

His hand fumbled in his pouch for a small eyeglass he used to spy on criminals from rooftops. He adjusted it, focusing on the top of the cliff. Why he bothered, he had no idea. The range of the miniature eyeglass wasn't great enough to give him details, and the chances that he would catch a glimpse of their missing teammates was ridiculously low, but desperation was a funny thing. The snow was slowing . . . A great swath of ground above the cliff seemed to be swept clean of everything, including trees. Below the ledge, however, was a . . . spot of something dark.

He checked the lens for dirt, but found no trace, so resetting it to his eye, Roy searched out that dark spot once more. He couldn't quite tell from here if that spot was merely a shadow shaped by the striations in the harsh granite or . . .

 _It was moving_!

Whatever the hell it was, it was dangling off the face of a freaking cliff! How the hell did the hundreds of tons of snow plunged over the edge of the cliff and miss plucking whoever that was off with it? As he watched, the spot continued the slow climb toward the ledge directly above it.

"What is it?" Artemis was asking him. "What do you see?"

He pulled the eyeglass away, frowning. "I can't be sure," he said slowly, "but I think . . ." He hesitated and put up the eyeglass once more. The small, dark spot was approaching the edge.

"You think . . . what?"

Without looking away, Roy offered her his eyeglass.

" _Robin_."

Artemis made a tiny sound, she plucking the eyeglass out of his hand. She began searching the landscape beyond.

"Find the top of the cliff," Roy instructed helpfully.

It was difficult to see anything at that distance, but then she spotted movement. Something was hanging off of the ledge at the top of the cliff. She couldn't make out any details, though.

"Are you sure? I see something, but there's no way to tell what it is from here."

Roy took the eyeglass from her and tucked it away. "Something set off that avalanche."

"And you think it was _Robin_?" She wanted to believe him, but it couldn't be more than a guess on his part.

What she really wanted to believe was that both boys were tucked up warm and safe in that shack she had noticed upon cresting the small hill they stood on. Either way, someone was home and he or she was bound to know something. Whoever it was that lived there had been to the wreckage.

And there lay their answers . . .

"I _do_ ," Roy admitted. He started laughing. "I really do. I don't know what the hell he's doing scaling that fucking cliff or what he was thinking by setting off that avalanche . . . _That crazy kid_! But yeah! Yeah, I think that's him!"

"Could Conner have been with him?" Artemis asked.

The shadow had been moving, but it hadn't looked to her as if it had been two separate bodies. If it was Robin, then where was Conner, and why was he going off on his own? It made no sense.

They knew for a fact that there wasn't habitation for miles and miles from where they were currently located. To run off in this weather, with its plunging temperatures and danger from wild animals, was nuts! Especially if you had a place to hole up that provided shelter, warmth and safety from the environment . . .

Roy's relieved laughter tapered off.

"I didn't see a second shadow," he admitted. He pursed his mouth in thought. "It's possible that what we saw might have been Conner, and not Rob, but why would Conner be scaling a cliff?"

Artemis looked at him with a slight frown. "Why would Robin, for that matter? Can we even really say it was one of them?"

Roy looked at her incredulously. "Who _else_ could it possibly be?"

She shrugged and tilted her head toward the shack. "Whoever lives there, maybe?"

Roy grunted. "Someone's home. I suppose we should knock and see what they know."

She nodded and angled her way around Roy, her gear and the rifle rattling. "Let's go!"

Roy eyed the distance. No hint that the avalanche could prove to be a danger to them. With the river directly behind them, if the avalanche made it this far, running would do them no good anyway. It would happen or not. Mother Nature was proving to be a lot more daunting of an adversary than any that they had gone up against before.

Artemis' speed picked up as she drew nearer to the shack. She could hear Roy behind her. He had dropped the deer haunch but had yet to catch up to her. Artemis wasn't waiting up, Not when they were within a hundred yards of the answers they needed.

So close . . .

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	23. Some Assembly Required

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

The rumble was followed by a loud crack that exploded right above his head and, then, the entire ledge began to shift and move. It was what he had wanted, what he had needed to happen, but Robin was suddenly nervous. He could feel the vibrations running through the granite at his back. Without the time to turn his back to the onslaught, Robin covered Cecil with his free arm and tucked his face into the arm still clinging to his grapple gun.

 _Are the vibrations going to shake my hook loose_?

A great chunk of ice fell in front of him, missing him by inches and, then, what he began to suspect was the entire mountain started sliding off the cliff above him. The rumble grew in strength until it no longer sounded like a train but an entire fleet of trains.

The vibrations were making heels of his boots shudder. Robin could feel them slipping closer toward the end of micro-ledge he was perched upon. Three inches! That was all there was between him and certain death. If he slipped off he would swing away from the cliff and the avalanche would rip him from the side of the precipice completely. He shifted one foot back until he felt the heel bump into the rock behind him, then he turned his attention on moving the other only to have to repeat the process again.

The monofilament wire that was his cable was shaking violently. He didn't want to lose his grip on the grapple gun, and tightened his hold until he was certain his knuckles were white beneath his gloves. Something glanced off of his shoulder. Robin grunted, resisting the urge to curl in on himself. He had barely a foot of space between him and the fall of snow and rocks . . . An enormous branch snapped off of the trunk of a falling tree only a yard to the left of where he was positioned. A yard! That was just a mere three feet away!

Thick, woody branches from brush tore at his face as they fell past him, going so far as to leave behind marks on his mask's lenses. As far as reminders to protect his face went, it did the job. Robin turned his head as far to the side as possible. The noises around him sounded like he was in the middle of a pitched battle, but he had learned his lesson well and resisted the compulsion to look at the chaos and destruction going on around him. Other things ' _brushed_ ' over and against him, but Robin was careful to keep his eyes clenched shut, protecting his face as much as he was able.

Cecil squirmed initially but then, thankfully, froze in place. That made two of them, as Robin had pretty much done the exact same thing. Terror could do that to you.

It went on forever . . . His arm was weakening. His grip felt unsure. Three more times, Robin had to readjust his heels on his tiny ledge. After a while, he thought he could just make out a whining noise. Without moving a muscle, he focused his attention on the sound. It took him a solid minute to realize that the noise was coming from **_him_**! And when his hand slipped an inch, Robin tried to tighten his hold even more, difficult when his hand ached to the point he was afraid he would lose his grip.

 _Ah, God! I'm going to die_ . . . He didn't want to die. He wasn't ready! What would happen to Bruce if he were gone?

Eventually the rumbling eased and only a soft shushing sound was left. Slowly, Robin opened his eyes and turned his head. A thin stream of loose snow was still sliding off the mountain but it was tapering off even as he watched.

 _Is it over_?

His breath was sawing in and out of him as if he had just sprinted a marathon. The pain in his chest and throat from the cold prevented him from taking any deep breaths, forcing Robin to turn inward to calm himself. He couldn't afford another coughing fit now. He also couldn't afford to stay put any longer.

As soon as he felt in control, Robin turned into the cliff face, pushing Cecil's sling back around behind him. The fox squirmed in the sling again, trying to make his way out, and it became necessary for Robin to spend a few precious moments soothing him.

"Easy, Cecil. Not yet," he crooned; petting the animal through the material. "We're almost there. Just a little further now."

Finally, he was able to search out the next several hand and foot holds, and pressing recoil, allowed his grapple to assist his climb toward the top. There probably weren't any trees left for him to use as an anchor, so he would have to climb the last fifteen feet freestyle. He would keep the grapple hook in place and the line loose in the event of a fall. It was a good possibility; his arms and legs were shaking and weak as his adrenaline began to crash. No choice, but to keep going . . .

Robin attempted to drop the grapple gun, but discovered that his fingers wouldn't open. Biting his lip, Robin slapped his hand against the rock to help open it. The gun slipped out of his hand, but his fingers wouldn't move correctly. With a groan, he loosen his fingers up by rubbing them against his leg, and then once more forced them into service by shoving them into a crevice and twisting them to ensure a more secure grip. It was in this way, he climbed the last few feet.

But reaching the top didn't make it any easier; the hardest part was still ahead of him in the form of an overhang. Robin dangled precariously for a long moment before pulling himself over the overhang. He used a batarang to anchor himself; pounding it into the ground. The remaining snow was hard and compacted and slick. Only when he was sure the batarang would support his weight did he dare to reach for a second one. Using the two weapons, Robin began the truly arduous task of dragging the rest of his body over the edge on onto horizontal land once more.

As soon the ground flattened out enough that he felt secure, Robin unhooked his line from his belt and retrieved his grapple gun. He nearly cried when the hook came free just the way it was supposed to. He recoiled it and attached it to the back of his belt.

He scrambled farther away from the edge for several more yards. As if sensing it was safe, Cecil scrambled to get out of the blanket. Robin tugged the material from over his head and shoulder to help free him. Seconds later, a black, pointed nose shoved its way through the folds, followed by a white head and with its perky, over-large ears.

Cecil squawked at him as if chiding him for taking so long. The sound was loud, and a little like that of a cat. The fox shook itself, fluffing up his fur before Cecil bounded out and around the boy in a mad dash; ecstatic to be free. He rolled in the snow and then shook again; his eyes bright and happy.

Robin snickered at the fox's antics, but they soon turned to sobs as the stress and exhaustion began taking its toll. He sat there with his knees drawn up; holding his head in his hands as what felt like days' worth of this solid adrenal rush finally released him all at once. The wreckage that was left behind felt equal to an eight car pileup in his mind.

" _Stop it_! Stop it," Robin berated himself. "Conner's counting on you, damn it!"

But he couldn't move; couldn't make himself get up. Couldn't stop the tears that soaked his mask as he alternated between coughing and crying. He felt lightheaded; unable to catch his breath. The brisk wind stung his cheeks and ruffled his hair. And when the boy realized that the hat that Ramón had given him was lost, the uncontrollable tears renewed.

 _This is stupid_! _It's just a hat_ . . . But he had long since gone past his stress limit. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself in his ratty blanket and just go to sleep.

 _Not a good idea, that_ , he thought, but it was getting harder to make himself care. He was just so tired. If he could just rest for a little bit, then maybe he could go on from there.

How long he sat there, he didn't know. His face was felt raw where it wasn't numb. He was shivering still, but no longer from the adrenaline crash. This was from the cold. Where was his blanket? Robin tilted his head and saw it lying where he had left it after releasing Cecil. The effort required to reach the couple of feet to where it lay nearby seemed astronomical. He tried to remember why it was important, but even that felt beyond his capabilities at the moment.

It wasn't until he felt Cecil squirming under his arm in an effort to squeeze himself into his lap that Robin's brain kicked in, and awareness of his surroundings returned. He lifted his head up as the fox, now situated where he wanted to be, nuzzled him excitedly and licked his face.

Robin laughed, and this time it was just a laugh.

"Easy! Hold up, Cecil," he smiled at the joyful little animal. "I'm okay now! I'm up, really," he said through chattering teeth.

His suit wasn't meant for lounging about in the snow in single-digit temperatures. The wind, although not as gusty as it had been while he had dangled off the side of the cliff, was sharp without the foliage that had been here before the avalanche. It found every tear in his costume.

Cecil rolled onto his back, demanding his tummy rub, and Robin obliged him even as he began assessing his condition. He found a tear in the material over his right thigh. He could see blood frozen beneath the tear; not a lot, but enough to know that he probably had something lodged there. Funny, but he couldn't feel any pain, and determined that was merely because he was too numb from the cold.

He found three more matching tears around his hip, his shoulder, and along his upper arm. All had crystalized blood clotted over what had to be shrapnel wounds. All in all, however, he thought it could have been much worse. He was lucky. At least, until Batman got ahold of him . . . **_If_** Batman got ahold of him.

Whether or not he made it out of here alive was no longer a certainty in his mind. He nearly died!

He still could . . .

Glancing around him; Robin noted the large swath of barren mountainside. The snow left behind was smooth but was dotted with numerous scattered rough patches where trees and rocks had been torn up or dislodged. He became aware of the downward slide of the sun on the horizon, and the long shadows that were beginning to stretch out across the valley below. It should have been beautiful, but the only emotion it sparked in him was alarm. If he hoped to get back to the shack tonight, Robin had to get off of the mountainside and down to the valley before full dark.

If he hoped to _live_ to see morning, Robin corrected, then he needed to be off of the mountain before the light was gone. He had his flashlight, the map, and his compass, but even those were no guarantee he wouldn't fall victim to any of the other dangers that lurked in the wilderness. He remembered Ramón's warning about predators; the mountain lions and the wolves.

Scratching Cecil's head, Robin set the fox aside so that he could climb to his feet. He thought of the camping trips Bruce had taken him on, and admitted that none of them had quite prepared him for something this extreme. If he got out of this alive, he and Bruce would have a lot to talk about.

His head spun and his body protested his movements, but Robin shoved his way back onto his feet. He pulled out the map; holding it tightly against the wind and determined the direction he needed to go in. He checked his compass against what his senses were telling him. Satisfied, Robin started off across the bare expanse towards the swath of trees on his left; the sun at his back. Cecil scampered about; running this way and darting that way, but never straying far from his companion.

* * *

As Artemis stopped at the shack, Roy dropped his burden in order to grab his bow. They only assumed that Conner and Robin were in the small building. They had no idea if the owner was in residence, or even if he might be friendly. Sometimes these hermits were anti-social for a reason. He pulled an arrow out and notched it.

 _Better to be safe than sorry_.

Artemis banged on the door open handed.

"Hello? Is anybody home? Please, we need help," she called out.

Certainly not a _total_ lie. They were standing at the mouth of a valley; kind of far from the rocky higher ground where they had found shelter in that alcove. The sun had passed its zenith, and was beginning to make its descent. There was still plenty of time to build something, if necessary, to shield them from the elements before nightfall.

Roy noticed a shadow pass behind the single, tiny window.

"Here he comes," he murmured.

Artemis stepped back and to the side to make less of a target for anyone within. The door opened a crack and a grizzled face appeared, as did the muzzle of a rifle. Roy raised his bow.

Dark eyes widened as the shack's occupant ran over his two visitors.

"Friend or foe," he asked; nodding his head at Roy's weapon.

"We'd really much prefer friend," the redhead admitted. His aim remained true, however. He was unwilling to lower his weapon first.

The man grunted, and lifted the rifle to the sky. "You must be Roy," he said, opening the door a bit wider. He peeked around at the girl. "And Artemis, I presume."

Artemis lowered her own crossbow; not questioning how the stranger knew their names. She smiled back at him as hope flared at this definite sign that the boys had survived.

"Yes," she squeaked. "You've met our friends, Robin and Conner, then. Are they here? Are they alright?"

The door opened further and the man stepped outside. He was a mountain of a man, Roy thought. _He must be six foot three or four, at least_. But as he focused on the man's expression, he knew at once that something was wrong.

"You need to understand that they've had a sore hard time of it since I found them," the woodsman began.

He paused awkwardly, and Artemis exchanged a worried glance with Roy.

"Maybe it would be better if you see for yourselves," he muttered. "It was pure luck that I heard the ruckus that night and decided to investigate. Had I not, they would've died out there."

He held the door for Artemis to duck under his arm and enter the shack. Roy followed cautiously, although at Artie's startled cry, he forgot the stranger at his back to rush in behind her. His breath caught at the unbelievable sight of a weakened Superboy flush with fever and delirious. He looked as though he were on death's door.

 _How can this be_?

As if in answer to Roy's unspoken question, Artemis tore the rifle from her shoulder and tossed it to him with a horrified look on her face. Roy set the weapon down next to the door frame, and allowed his eyes to roam the small space for their one still missing teammate, but there was nowhere for the boy to hide.

"So, that shadow _was_ Robin we saw on the cliff," he said, more to himself than anyone.

"Did you say that boy was on the _cliff_?" Their host gaped.

"We spotted him as the avalanche cleared. He had been scaling it, apparently." Roy verified.

"Dagnabit! That child is just plain _loco_ ," the older man complained. "I warned him he was going to get himself killed out there."

"I'm sorry, sir," Artemis spoke up. She had sat on the cot next to Conner. He didn't appear to be aware of her presence. "What's wrong with Conner?"

"I ain't no sir," he muttered. "You can call me Ramón. I'm a wildlife biologist. Been studying the local wolf pack out here for years."

Their wolf pack was this guy's wolf pack, apparently. As he watched, Ramón moved over to the cot and picked up the bucket. The ice had all melted and the water had warmed to room temperature anyway.

"The young'un, Robin, had nearly drowned in the river," he explained. "Don't ask me how he got in there, I couldn't tell you, but his brother here . . . Conner was trying to pull him out when I found them. It was a real struggle, and the river almost beat them, but I helped pull them both free, and brought them here.

"Robin was the one I was most concerned with at the time. He wasn't breathing. His lips were blue from both lack of oxygen and from severe hypothermia. But after a little CPR, he came around. That's when I discovered his brother had sliced open his leg as pretty as you please on a part of that train car out there while he was trying to rescue the young one," Ramón dumped the water out the door and scooped up some fresh snow in the bucket.

"I cleaned it up as best I could. You need to understand that I don't come out this way often; my first aid kit was lacking. But, I was able to stitch the cut right up. It didn't take but a few hours before the fever started. I only had aspirin to give him to bring it down, but they don't work right on him. They would barely make an impact, and in no time the fever would be back again, worse than ever."

Roy nodded. It made sense that human medications would have little to no effect on his Kryptonian biology. It was probably his human DNA that allowed the aspirin to work even as much as it did, but how to explain that?

He sighed. They couldn't.

Ramón lifted the edge of the thin blanket he had left on the boy for modesty's sake; exposing the lightly-covered bandage that protected the wound. The smell of infection was ripe as it wafted up, and Artemis gagged a little as she turned her head away.

"I had to reopen the wound to allow the infection to drain. He needs antibiotics. I have some at my cabin. It's some distance away from here; atop the bluff. That was where Robin was heading . . . to retrieve what few pills I have left," the biologist remarked idly. "I suppose that is why he decided on that plum-fool notion of scaling the cliff in order to cut the time it would take to reach the bluff."

He shook his head. "I have half a mind to skin that boy alive if he somehow makes it back."

Artemis met Roy's eyes. "So, _that's_ what he was doing! Going after medicine for Conner."

"I tried to talk him out of it," Ramón told them as he pack a cloth with the melting snow. "I argued and ordered him to stay, but he couldn't stand to watch his brother deteriorate like he was, and do nothing. I caught him sneaking out early this morning. I'm too busy caring for Conner to be able to sit on that young'un when he's set on doing what he pleases. So, I gave him a map, and let him go."

He laid the cold snow-pack over Conner's forehead. The boy moaned, but had weakened to the stage where even restless movement was becoming too difficult for him.

"I knew that once the weather cleared off that someone would come looking. I didn't want to have to give their parents bad news, but as you can see, we're losing your friend."

Roy could see that too well.

"You say Robin went after the antibiotics?"

Ramón shrugged. "There are maybe four, five if we are lucky. If the boy lasts until Robin returns, maybe they would help him ward this infection long enough for him to be rescued. It's a mighty big if, however. That boy has a talent for finding trouble, I think."

"He's got a talent for overcoming odds," Roy assured him. "If anyone can get those antibiotics and get back in time, it would be Robin."

"Maybe on a good day, but the young'un's been fighting off what I suspect is pneumonia for the past few days. He's been improving, but make no mistake, he's still sick; still weak," Ramón said. "He has Cecil with him, but there is only so much he'll be able to do to help."

Artemis held Conner's hand. He had yet to acknowledge her presence. Roy wondered if the clone even knew they were there with him.

"So, Robin's not out there _alone_ , at least," she smiled. "He has someone to help him."

Ramón cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, about that. Cecil is a fox."

Artemis blinked. Roy gaped.

"A fox?" Roy asked. "I hope by that you mean that Cecil is smart and cunning."

"Well, he _is_ that, but what I meant is that Cecil is an animal. He's a real fox."

Roy was flabbergasted. _Was this guy some kind of fruitcake_? "How will having a fox with Robin help him?"

"Cecil knows the way to the cabin," Ramón told them. "He will also alert him to danger. He likes the boy. I figure he'll stick close to him. I doubt he'd run off and leave him anyway." The older man grinned suddenly. "Cecil likes his belly rubs too much to up and not come back."

He and Artemis exchanged another look. This couldn't go on. They couldn't just sit back and continue to take a passive approach to the team's survival. She obviously was thinking the same thing.

"Roy, you have to go after him," Artemis spoke up suddenly. "I'll stay here with Conner and help care for him, but you have the best chance finding Robin and those pills, and getting him back here alive!"

Ramón studied them. "You hunt and track?"

"I do; although it's been a while since I've been in a wilderness like this." Roy admitted. Truth was, there was _no_ wilderness quite like this on the Navajo Reservation where he grew up.

"I guess the question should be whose presence would be more valuable here," the woodsman wondered aloud. "I could go after him. I know these mountains better than anybody, but how are you at dealing with this?" Ramón waved at Conner.

"I have basic first aid skills," Roy murmured, "but I might be able to save time by following Robin on the same path he took."

Ramón raised a bushy eyebrow; looking a bit skeptical. "Climbing the cliff? Are _all_ of you kids crazy?"

"We just have a different skill set than you're used to," Roy smirked.

"So I've heard," Ramón snorted. "I've been living out here for the past twenty-five years. I'll admit that I'm not _used_ to a lot of things. Alright. I'll draw you a map. Missy and I will try to keep this'un alive until you two get back."

"My name is Artemis," the blonde muttered, "not Missy."

"Although, she's been known to answer to _'princess_ ' on occasion," Roy chuckled. He held out his hands in surrender to the look she gave him. "Right. Sorry." He changed the subject. "Okay, about that map? I should get started immediately if I hope to have any chance of catching up to him."

* * *

Artemis took over bathing Conner's face, chest and arms with the now melted snow. The water was more cool than cold already; and did little at relieving the heat emanating from the clone. She watched as the grizzled man and Roy poured over the makeshift map from her place on side of the cot. She listened to his list of warnings for the younger man to heed on his journey with a fair sense of trepidation.

Artemis wanted nothing more than to be rescued and to go home, but she didn't want to be the only one out of their group to do it alive.

A few minutes later, Roy was kneeling beside her.

"Do you feel alright being left here alone with him?" He murmured under his breath.

"I'm not alone. Conner's here," she answered lightly.

Roy lifted an eyebrow. "Conner's not a whole heck of a lot of help right now."

"I think if this guy wanted to kill us, he wouldn't have worked so hard to keep the boys alive, do you? It's not like we really have a choice here, but if it makes you feel any better, I'll keep up my guard while you're gone." She told him. "If what he said about Robin being sick is true, he's going to need you. Bring him back!" When Roy started to turn away, she added. "And Roy? Be careful!"

"You got it, Mom," he joked.

Artemis rolled her eyes.

"Sorry. Not Mom; . . . _Princess_ ," he laughed.

"Get out of here!" She smiled so that he knew she wasn't upset.

The nickname didn't bother her quite as much as it used to . . . Was it only a few days ago? It felt like they'd been out here for an eternity. So much so, the real world felt surreal; like Mount Justice was the dream and where they were now, the reality.

"Do you need any of my equipment?" She asked him suddenly. "You can take my arrows and add them to yours. Just leave me the flare arrow and one of the homing beacons . . . in case," she swallowed and turned her attention back onto Conner. "Just . . . in case."

In case Roy didn't make it back.

"Thanks, but I think I have all I need for this," Roy said; unwilling to leave her without a supply arrows . . . just in case. He opened the door, then turned back to their accidental host.

"Take care of them," Roy growled at Ramón as he left the warmth of the small building for more of Mother Nature's ice cold fury.

If Ramón took the order as a threat, he didn't acknowledge it, but there was an unmistakable inflection that he couldn't have missed. Once, Artemis would have been offended by the warning given on her behalf. Didn't he think she could handle herself? Did he think she was incompetent? Now, however?

Now, she just kind of thought it felt . . . nice.

* * *

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 **Don't worry. It will be worth the wait - Promise!**


	24. Endurance

**Enjoy the whumpage!**

 **Warning: Language and Peril . . .**

* * *

It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon by the time Robin found the clearing. The cabin was there in the distance. It was larger than the shack with a covered porch and a sizable fireplace. The two window that could be seen were small. To a frozen Robin, it looked like a piece of heaven.

He had been forced to stop and replace the snowshoes on his feet by the time he had entered the trees beyond the stripped area from where the avalanche began. He had needed to wrap the blanket around his head and shoulders in an effort to block the wind and retain body heat. If anyone had been around to see him, they would have said that he resembled a creaky old woman emerging from the surrounding forest.

 _Not_ that there was anyone here to see the pitiful image he must have made.

He wasn't as cold anymore but that could be because Robin couldn't really feel his extremities. A tiny alarm was sounding in the back of his brain. It had been going off for the past . . . hour, maybe? Time was all relative . . . But that alarm was so far away and dim it had been easy to ignore.

He felt like he was wrapped up in a cocoon and a sliver of clarity warned him he was in danger of succumbing to hypothermia . . . again.

Seeing the cabin, however, brought Robin out of the daze he had been in. The cabin was a beacon. He thought that if he could keep his eyes on the goal he might make it but part of him was wondering how he had managed to get here.

He honestly couldn't remember much past the putting on the snowshoes. The world had turned into a blur of shuffling feet, a maze of tree trunks, and a biting wind . . . and _Cecil_?

Robin could remember seeing the little fox running around in front of him; the animal's light weight enabling him to stay atop the frozen snow with ease. Somewhere along the line Robin had stopped consciously thinking about where he was going and just followed the fox.

Cecil squawked at him again and bounded forward several yards. He snuffled around as he waited for Robin to catch up and it slowly dawned on him that Cecil had led him here doing this very thing, running ahead and stopping to wait. But the last hour was a blank.

He shuffled forward just as something snapped overhead. A crash sounded behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see a large branch had broken off under the weight of snow and landed only a few feet away. Its laden limbs stretched out across his shuffling path.

A tiny voice told him that that was bad and that he had been lucky again before spinning off into a swirl of confusion. He wasn't sure how long he had stood there staring at that limb but Cecil bumped into his legs and almost sent him to his knees. Blinking, Robin gazed at the fox dumbly. Cecil stretched up and pawed at his legs. He made a chittering sound. When Robin started to reach for him, however, the fox darted off only to circle back and squawk at him again. Robin shuffled forward slowly . . . just following the fox.

Following the fox . . .

Following . . .

Until he was there.

Robin tripped on the step, just barely managing to get one arm out in front of him in time to avoid smacking his face on the . . . porch? He blinked and suddenly realized he ** _was_ ** there. The door was just in front of him.

Cecil suddenly leapt on his back and off again as he danced in excitement to be home. He ran over and stuck his cold nose in Robin's ear, snuffling. He sneezed . . . the fox did, that was, not Robin. Robin coughed and gasped at the sharp pain that lanced through his chest. The cold was like a knife to his lungs.

Cecil scrabbled at the door and then ran back to chitter in Robin's face.

He seemed to be saying 'get up' or 'hurry up' and Robin did his best to oblige. He ignored the pain as best he could and struggled to his feet only to fall again. He stared at the snowshoes in confusion. He couldn't walk on the porch in them so Robin fumbled to free himself as the little fox darted across his lap every so often to remind him to hurry and to pull Robin once more from the ever-present stupor he had long ago fallen into.

"M'coming," Robin assured him.

That the door opened easily surprised him. But then, why would anyone bother to lock their door up here. He stumbled through the entrance, slamming the door shut before collapsing into a heap on the floor. Just the lack of wind made him feel warmer. He thought maybe he could even sleep right there on the hard planks with no problem.

Scrabbling paws along the floor woke him up. A light, but solid weight landed on his back, startling a grunt out of him and setting off another round of agonizing coughs. Clutching his chest, Robin rolled onto his back. Cecil leapt on him again but Robin had nothing left in him for anything more than breathing . . . or, at least attempting to . . . breathe.

The fox snuffled his face and licked him in the mouth.

Robin turned his head. "Gross," he wheezed weakly.

He blinked as he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing. Table and chairs, he thought. Two chairs . . . Was that an open doorway beyond the furniture? He gathered his strength and rolled his head in the other direction. Cabinets.

The cabin. He was in the cabin.

He had made it.

His eyes slid closed but didn't reopen this time.

Cecil nuzzled the boy several times, chittering in his ear to no avail. After exploring the cabin to assure himself that nothing had changed the fox climbed back onto the boy's chest, curled up in a ball, sighing as he waited for him to wake up.

* * *

The fallout of the avalanche slowed him up a little but the snow was firm enough that Roy could hang the snowshoes off of his back once more. Despite having to climb over chunks of snow, rocks, and trees he figured he was probably making better time than Robin had, even before the avalanche had occurred.

For one, Roy's costume was better insulated and had a hood. According to Ramón, Robin's costume had no cape when he had rescued the two teens from the river. So Roy was warmer. For another, Roy was taller and stronger than the younger boy, even when he was healthy, making his steps longer and faster than Robin would be capable of making out here.

The biggest thing Roy had over Robin, however, would be his health. If Robin was battling even a mild case of pneumonia or bronchitis, breathing in the cold air would be hard for him. Shallow breathing meant slower movements and more stops in which to catch that breath.

Even if Roy couldn't catch up with the boy before he reached the cabin, he would be bound to catch him on the way back. Roy planned to track him by taking his exact path. If Robin was trying to save time it stood to reason that he would return using the same path.

He stopped for a minute to do his own breath catching. The snow had stopped early this morning with the exception of the occasional flurry. He glanced up at the clouds. They were still thick and heavy, still threatening more snow. He looked around at the landscape with a critical eye. The wind, although steady, wasn't nearly as blustery as it was this morning, he decided.

He hoped that meant if they received more snow that it would like what the sky had sputtered at him earlier: pretty flakes floating down like something you would see on a Christmas card. Unfortunately, the idea that he could lose Robin's trail with even the smallest amount of accumulation had kept his rest time to a minimum.

He could rest after he had found their last missing team member.

* * *

Standing at the base of the cliff, Roy stared up and shook his head.

 _Holy Crap_! _What the hell had Robin been thinking_? _This is suicidal_! _How the hell did he manage to scale this thing without falling_?

"You, little bird, are completely out of your mind," Roy groused out loud. "And when I catch up with you, I have half a mind to turn you over my knee."

The wind had died down a bit, so hopefully he wouldn't get himself stuck out here and in need of rescue. That would truly top the cake, and officially make this the suckiest mission he's ever been on.

 _Oh, who am I kidding_? _This is already the suckiest mission I've ever been on_ , he grumbled inside his head. Although another mission he had been on with Ollie suddenly popped into his head, a bad memory he'd had wanted to forget forever. _Okay,_ he admitted, _the second suckiest, unless I get stuck on the side of this cliff_.

Pulling out two specialized arrows, Roy took several moments to rework them into something unique. It wasn't often that he needed to scale a nine hundred foot cliff. Okay, not nine hundred anymore. By standing atop the remnants of the avalanche, he figured Robin had saved him about a hundred and fifty feet or so.

 _Like seven hundred and fifty feet is so much better_.

Looking at his new construct, Roy closed his eyes, and silently prayed this would work; that he wouldn't be regretting this later.

He and Ollie had seldom needed to scale anything higher than two hundred feet. The cable he had attached to his grapple arrow wasn't long enough to take him to the top of this escarpment. He dug out his second grapple, and considered it. He only had the two. If he did this, he'd have nothing for the trip back. But if all went well, he would have Robin, and Robin had his grapple gun.

With luck, they wouldn't need his second grapple arrow or its line for the trip back. In seconds he had gutted it, and used the sticky polymer in yet another arrow to seal one end of his line to the other.

 _Four hundred feet_ . . . _Shit_! That was only a little better than halfway.

He had another rocket arrow . . . His second grapple arrow. He scowled as he worked the logistics in his head. Could he possibly recollect his line, and shoot off another arrow while hanging precariously from the side of a cliff? His cheeks puffed out as he blew out his breath in frustration.

No, he couldn't.

The line part, yeah, that wasn't a problem. It was getting the angle he needed to shoot off another arrow while using both arms that was the problem. To send out a second arrow, Roy would need to basically jump out away from the cliff in order to do it. He would have exactly five seconds to get the shot off before he would fall too far to be able to reach the top. If that happened . . . Roy would be scaling that last however many feet remained by hand.

He would be wearing his fingerless gloves for this. If he had to be exposed for very long, he would risk losing feeling in his fingertips, and then he would be unable to use his bow or climb the rest of the way. If that was the case, he would eventually fall, and that would be the end of Roy Harper.

He looked behind him. From his current vantage point, he could just see the shack where Artemis and Conner rested. What if he went back and waited for Robin? How many times had he assured the other two that Robin was a professional; that he didn't need them worrying about him . . . That he was capable of pulling his ass out of stickier situations than this one?

 _This one_ . . . This one wasn't exactly run of the mill, though, was it?

Hell, the fact that the kid had set off a major avalanche on his way up the cliff should answer that question for him. Robin may not be in trouble, but then again, he could be. Could Roy risk Rob and Conner's life on his trust in the younger boy's ingenuity? Rob was good; hell, he was more than good, but he was still only thirteen, still hurt and sick . . .

That biologist fellow had told them that the boys had believed that he and Artemis were dead. If Rob thought he was the only one left . . . Would he just give up in a hard moment? He didn't think the boy even knew the word surrender, but . . .

Always 'but' . . . Roy was the senior member of the team, even if Rob was its brains. There was no way was he leaving the boy to do this on his own! Remembering how terrible the clone had looked when he had left the shack, he knew that retrieving those antibiotics were vital to his survival. Rob would kill himself to save Conner. It was going to be up to Roy, then, to save Robin.

He finished readying the second grapple arrow that he would need, and slid it home in his quiver. He notched the first arrow, aiming it carefully.

"I am so going to pluck your tail feathers when I find you, Robin," he grumbled. He was going to do this even if it killed him . . . and it probably would. Snorting at the irony of it all, Roy released his arrow.

A second later, the rocket he attached to the grapple arrow flared to life, and the arrow shot up an up and up to slam with incredible force into the hard granite rock, four hundred feet from where he stood. The grapple held. Roy tested the cable, and deemed it secure.

Ollie had designed a device that would retract the cable that he attached to his bow. Roy had one as well, but he detached it from his bow. This wasn't a five story building, or even a twenty story one. He wanted the added security of the device attached to _him_. Roy clipped it onto the strap across his chest that held his quiver in place. The straps were a reinforced polymer weave that couldn't be cut off without a special diamond edged knife. If anything the clasp was its weakness, but even that was designed for the extremes of their profession.

It would hold.

He activated the cable retractor, and immediately he shot up in the air with frightening speed.

 _Slow_ _down_! _Slow down_! **_Holy Shit,_** _I'm going to die_!

It took a second to find the control, and Roy slowed to a point he could get his feet between him and the rock face.

 _Damn_! He could have easily slammed into the side of cliff and left a trail of tissue and blood in a streak from the base up. As if to prove that point, he nearly tripped over a jagged piece of rock that jutted out almost a foot beyond the rest of the cliff face. He should slow himself down more, but Roy really didn't want to be out here any longer than necessary, so he kept his feet under him as he ran up the granite face of the escarpment.

He was getting close to where his grapple arrow was lodged when he smelled something burning. He glanced down, and realized the device wasn't really designed for four hundred feet of cable. Once he reached the limit, he found a small ledge he could rest his feet on and a solid handhold, and then he double-checked his cable. The line felt hot, but the freezing temperature had cooled it in seconds. It seemed strong enough . . . The polymer glue still held the two lines together, and hadn't snagged or snarled during his climb. It only had to last until he got over the edge of the cliff and back onto solid ground.

Now was the hard part. Slinging his bow over his head and shoulder, Roy used one hand to detach the cable from the grapple arrow. He pulled out his second grapple arrow with its own rocket attachment, and tucked it under his chin as he clumsily fed the end of the cable through the hollow shaft. When enough was through, he clamped it into place.

There was no real way to test it, so it was all or nothing. He held the arrow as he pulled his bow free. Looking up to see his target area, Roy took a deep breath, and threw himself backwards off the ledge.

One second, he switched his hold on his bow.

Two seconds, he notched his arrow, and fired in one smooth practiced move.

Three seconds, the arrow was still traveling up, the rocket attachment firing perfectly.

Four seconds, it was still flying upwards as Roy continued to fall.

Five seconds, the grapple powered into the rock just beneath the lip of the cliff.

 _This is going to hurt_ . . .

Six seconds, Roy jerked to a stop so hard that his teeth clacked together. He slammed into the side of the cliff with a grunt. He didn't complain, however. While it had hurt, it was not as bad as he had expected it to be. Of course, he had expected to be falling to his death, so anything not contributing to that outcome was a very good thing in his book.

The grapple and the cable held. Roy hadn't actually thought that was going to work. In relief, he started laughing; his voice echoing down through the valley. He whooped in a celebration of life, and then began recoiling his cable once again . . . fast, but not enough to melt the polymer holding his two lines together, or wreck his cable retractor.

He was going to live another day!

Now, once he was safely over the edge, he could go on to the next part of his journey. Tracking down one particularly annoying, little bird . . .

* * *

Artemis pulled out the thermometer. One hundred and three point five and hovering. It was the lowest they had been able to bring Conner's fever down all morning, and the clone went back and forth between shivering one moment and kicking off his blanket the next. He was completely out of it, and had no idea that she was even there. Had he his strength, his restlessness would have destroyed the cot he lay on by now.

His sheets were soaked from melted snow and ice, but there was no point in keeping them dry, even had Ramón another set handy. Keeping his fever down was the greatest priority at this point. Despite the cold water they wiped Conner down with, the shack itself was warm. Even so, Artemis' hands stayed frozen from her chore.

Ramón had retrieved the haunch of deer and her bundle of wood after Roy had left, and the wildlife biologist, or so he had claimed to be, was currently roasting the deer meat over the open flame.

"Do you think that Robin and Roy will get back with those antibiotics in time?" _Why did she ask that_?

She kind of hoped he would lie to her. She didn't want to know the truth if it were bad news. For while, Artemis thought that maybe he wouldn't answer her at all, but he was only gathering his thoughts.

"I'll admit I hadn't much hope that the young'un could do it, but your friend looks as though he might somehow manage it," Ramón told her. "Truth is, I don't know. Doesn't mean I'll give up on them, but it might be best not to think too hard on it."

Meaning, he didn't have much faith that they would make it, either.

No, she couldn't think like that. She and Roy had just spent the last couple of days believing that Robin and Conner were dead. To find them both alive, even sick as Conner was and Robin was supposed to be, it felt miraculous. But if the League didn't find them soon . . . Artemis knew that _this_ miracle had an expiration date.

She wrung out her cloth and was preparing to wipe Conner's face again when he finally opened his eyes and looked at her. He blinked as if he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was really there.

"Artemis?" He croaked. His voice sounded so hoarse, so painful.

"Conner?" She leaned in and stroked his brow. "It's me! Roy and I found the shack this morning."

"You're alive?" The edges of his lips turned up. "We were worried."

"I know; we were, too," she smiled at him.

"Where . . .," he paused to lick his lips. They were getting chapped. "Where is Robin? He said he was . . . going out . . . to find the . . . cabin." He tried to lift his head to scan the shack, but fell back against the cot exhausted. "You need . . . to stop him."

"Robin's not here," she hated to tell him. He seemed so concerned. "But Roy went after him. He'll catch up and bring him back."

"Robin, he . . . he's still . . . sick. Don't let him . . . do it. Not for . . . me," Conner gasped out.

"Easy. You don't need to worry about that," she told him. "Roy's got this. He's a regular Davy Crockett out there. Who'd have thunk it, right? He'll find Robin."

Conner frowned at her. "D-Davy Crockett? But didn't . . . he die at . . . the Alamo?"

Artemis rolled her eyes. Of course, Conner would take her literally. "I don't mean the real Davy Crockett. I just meant that Roy knows how to survive the wilderness."

"Roy . . . will save . . . Robin?" Conner asked.

She refreshed her cloth in the cold water, and prayed she wasn't lying to him. "Roy will save Robin. Don't worry! We're going to get through this . . . _All_ of us!"

When Artemis raised her hand to wipe him down again, Conner caught it in his. He looked into her eyes as he spoke.

"Make sure he's okay," Conner whispered. "I-I . . . I'm not supposed . . . to exist. If I don't . . . make it; it . . . things will . . . go back to . . . the way they were . . . supposed to be."

Artemis's eyes widened. "What? No! You're going to be fine! You'll see . . . Robin and Roy are going to bring back medicine and you're going to get better."

Conner shook his head. "Don't let Robin . . . be sad. Not . . . his fault. T-Tell him . . . and the others . . . thank you for . . . s-saving me . . . from Cadmus."

Tears sprang to her eyes. "Stop it, Conner! Don't talk like that."

"Tell Superman . . . I only wanted . . . to be . . . like him."

He let go of her hand, and Artemis caught it back up in hers.

" _No_! _I won't tell them_ ," she declared hotly as tears streaked down her face. "You have to do it yourself. Do you hear me, Conner? You have to get better, so you can tell them yourself!"

But Conner wasn't listening. He had used up what little strength he had to get his message to Artemis. He closed his eyes, and let the darkness pull him back under.

"Conner? Conner!" Artemis shook his shoulder. " _Conner_!"

Ramón was suddenly kneeling beside her, turning her away. He gently drew her into his arms, patting her back as she cried. She had been so afraid ever since she and Roy had escaped from the baggage car, but now Conner was depending on her, and she didn't know what to do to help him.

"Hush, now missy," he crooned. "He's just gone to sleep. Sleep is good for him. Lets him concentrate on getting better."

"D-Didn't you hear him?" She pulled back to wipe her eyes. "He's talking like he's going to _die_! He's giving up."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean that we are," he told her. "We have to keep hoping until all that hope is gone."

He chucked her under the chin, lightly. Anyone else, Artemis would have slapped his hand away, but right now she needed someone to tell her everything was going to be okay.

"Hope's not done with us yet," Ramón assured her once more as he stood up. "I have food ready. Some of that deer your man brought with you and some of my famous beaver tail soup."

Artemis covered Conner back up, and turned toward the table where Ramón was already setting out a plate of the roasted meat and a mug of something steaming.

"He's not my ' _man_ '," she grumbled, then blinked. "Wait! What kind of soup?"

"Go on, now, dig in," Ramón said, ignoring the question. "Cecil and the boys swear by it."

She gazed into the mug, suspiciously. She didn't see anything weird floating in it, and it did smell delicious. Ramón snorted in amusement as he sat down in the rocking chair with his own tin cup. He watched as she took a tentative sip, and rolled the liquid around on her tongue.

Artemis glanced up at him. "Not bad," she admitted, hesitantly. Actually, it was pretty good. "You said that Robin and Conner liked it?"

"Robin asked for the recipe," Ramón assured her. "Now then, tell me about my wolves."

Artemis took another long sip, and set the mug down on the table. Picking up the piece of roasted meat, she proceeded to tell the mountain man about their adventures with his wolf pack in between bites.

Funny, how the episode was a lot more entertaining in the telling than it was in the experiencing, she thought in bemusement. She occasionally cast worried glances at her teammate, and then at the window, judging the passing of time by the waning light.

Artemis picked up her cloth as Ramón sat another bowl of icy cold water next to her.

 _Hurry, guys_ . . . _Please, hurry_ , she begged silently as she returned to battling Conner's raging fever.

* * *

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 **Can't wait to hear from you . . .**


	25. The Path to Nowhere

**Watch for POV changes. Not every line break equals a change in POV, however. I try to make it obvious quickly. Shouldn't be a problem if you're aware.**

 **WARNING: Some Strong Language and Deadly Peril . . .**

* * *

Roy stomped snow from his snowshoes on the porch of Ramon's cabin. Well, he assumed it was Ramon's cabin. It wasn't like the mountain man was likely to have neighbors anywhere around – of the human variety, anyway. Hopefully the door would be unlocked. Not that Roy was above busting it open, but he didn't want to damage their benefactor's residence more than he could help. He was eager to get inside, exhausted and wanting nothing more than to get out of the wind and cold and collapse for the next six months. But the sun had maybe two hours to go before it dipped behind the western mountain peaks, which meant starting back within the hour or staying overnight. And that latter choice would probably kill Connor.

Have to settle for thirty minutes. Damn.

As he bent to unstrap the snowshoes from his feet, Roy glimpsed another pair lying on the porch boards. His eyes darted over them, reading the signs. They had been dropped carelessly by the door and were dusted with snow as if fresh from travel. Some of the snow was packed down to form boot prints.

Robin.

Roy exhaled slowly, feeling his heart rate pick up as he processed this hopeful sign. He'd seen neither hide nor hair of the wayward bird during his hike, his only trail markers being boot prints through the snow. But the prints only led one way. Which meant that, unless Rob had slipped out through a back door, he was inside.

"You better be here, birdboy, or I'm gonna wring your scrawny neck."

The door opened easily for about a foot before it bumped into something.

"What the hell?" Roy shoved the door further, pushing whatever was in the way over enough for him to enter. Closing the door behind him, he stared down at the blockage with a curse.

"Damn it," Roy growled as he dropped to his knees next to the unconscious form of his friend.

A small white fox was curled up on the boy's chest. It scurried away at the redhead's approach, retreating a safe distance before turning to bark loudly at him with something that resembled a cross between that of a dog and a cat's outraged cry. Funny, all the time he had spent with his forest ranger father and his medicine man guardian, and he had never before heard the sounds that a fox made. Pretty obnoxious when he considered it, amused by the small animal.

Roy patted Robin's face gently. The boy coughed harshly but didn't awaken fully. Ramón wasn't kidding when he had said Robin was still ill. Stubborn, the boy likely just undid any healing he might have accomplished in the past few days with this stunt.

One side of the Robin's face was the mottled combination of blues, greens, and yellows found in healing bruises. The biologist had said Robin had fallen into the river and Conner had gone in to pull him out. Shit! The boy must have hit every boulder hidden in the whitewater from the looks of him. _How the **hell** did he manage to get up that cliff being in this kind of shape_?

Roy had no illusions as to what Robin's uniform must be hiding. He shook his head. Another of one of Artemis's miracles . . . But it wasn't old bruises that was keeping him unconscious . . . So, what was it? Fever? Injury? Had he been hurt in the avalanche?

Robin's lips were discolored and the rest of his face paper-white except for two splotches of red over both cheeks. Roy pulled off his heavy gloves, having replace the fingerless kind as soon as he had topped the cliff . He touched Robin's face and cursed again. If he had had a fever, this hike had cured it . . . and in the process blown right past the body's normal temperature.

Hypothermia . . . The kid was lucky he managed to make it to the cabin before collapsing. Roy had no doubt that, if he had collapsed in the snow, Robin would be dead even now. He was shivering, at least. His body hadn't lost the ability to produce its own heat with the involuntary movement. Moderate hypothermia then, rather than severe, but still concerning. As his hand moved down to the boy's chest; Roy felt a noticeable difference in temperature. _Warmer_.

He glanced up at the irate fox with new-found respect. Cecil, the fox, may have just helped to save Robin's life by sharing his body heat with the boy.

He needed to warm Robin up faster than that, however. Sliding his arms under him, Roy picked the younger boy up and carried him over toward the fireplace. It was open to the room on the other side of the wall, he noted . . . A bedroom. He discovered that it was furnished with a bed much more substantial than the cot he has seen in the shack.

Laying Robin on top of the bed, Roy yanked the fur that had been draped over the footboard off, and covered him with it. He moved to the fireplace and was appreciative of the dry wood already laid out. All it needed was to be lit.

Ramón was bound to have something to light the fire stashed somewhere obvious, but Roy didn't bother looking. He pulled his flint and arrowhead out of his pouch, and with a few expert flicks of his wrist, started the kindling burning. Although much larger than the shack, the cabin was still small enough that it should warm up quickly. Hopefully Robin would be able to do the same.

Roy moved back to the bed and pulled back the fur in order to further check Robin for injuries and to move him under the rest of the blankets. He was startled to discover that the fox had followed him in and snuck under the fur beside the boy. On being exposed, he sat up, chittering angrily at him.

"You're a cute, little fellow," Roy told him, "but you are currently in the way." He picked the animal up by his scruff and set him back on the floor.

"Off with you now, Cecil," Roy muttered, and turned back to what he was doing.

Roy noted several tears on one side of the boy's uniform as well as a long slice right up the middle, indicating the presence of injuries. Ramón must have cut him out of his tunic. The stitches repairing the cut were small and neat, but the uniform was compromised for more than insulation now. Thankfully, Roy didn't expect any supervillains to be hanging out in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. Sportsmaster and Cheshire managed to escape with Overton; he didn't think they would be back when they could simply create another weapon.

He had just reached for the clasps on the front of Rob's tunic when a white ball of fluff bounded onto the bed from the other side. The fox crawled up on Rob's chest and laid down right below Roy's hands. Roy shoved him to the side but didn't bother setting him back on the floor. The little beastie would just be back up in seconds anyway, he figured.

"Move it, bub," he ordered. "I need to get him warm and see where he might be hurt."

Cecil stuck his nose in Robin's ear, snuffling him. He made a loud cross between a whine and a howl. Robin jerked from the noise and curled up as a violent coughing fit overtook him.

"Easy, Rob," Roy murmured. "Let me help you up."

He lifted the boy into a sitting position and rubbed his back. Robin blinked open his eyes, staring at his friend blearily.

"Roy?" he rasped. He blinked again as if unable to believe his eyes. " ** _Roy_**?!"

"It's me, kid. Here to save your scrawny butt," Roy smirked at him.

"Y-You're not _d-dead_?" Robin twisted to see him better and winced at the movement.

"So, you _are_ injured on top of being sick and hypothermic," Roy concluded as he noted the painful movements. "Batman would have your hide if he were here now."

Ignoring those injuries, Robin threw his arms around the older teen. "God! We thought you and Artemis were dead!" Rob pulled back just as suddenly. " _Artemis_! Is she . . .?"

"She's fine," he assured his young friend. "Not for lack of trying," he added in a grumble. "I left her with Conner at the shack. We missed you by a few hours, apparently."

" _Conner_!" Robin's eyes widened. " _Crap_! I-I must have fallen asleep. He needs antibiotics badly, Roy. You saw him, right? That Red Sun laser stripped him of his invulnerability and any immunity he might have had to our bacteria. He's sick, Roy! I mean _really_ sick! He could _die_!"

Roy nodded grimly. "He looked pretty bad," he agreed. "Your rescuer seemed concerned about you, too, however. He sent me after you . . . And it's probably a good thing he did. You were completely out of it when I got here fifteen minutes ago."

"I'm better now that I rested," Robin assured him. He tried to get up but Roy held him in place.

"That wasn't resting that you were doing, chum," Roy told him. "You wouldn't wake up for me. You need to take it easy for a while longer."

Robin looked alarmed. "Longer? Conner doesn't _have_ longer! What time is it? I've taken too long as it is." He glanced about the darkened room. There was no window in the small bedroom. " _Oh no_! Is it dark already?"

"Calm down," he ordered. "It's just three now. We should have enough light to get down the mountain if we leave in another thirty minutes, but we'll have to haul tail."

Cecil had crawled up into Robin's lap, begging for attention. Robin rubbed him absentmindedly before looking down at him.

"Oh, Cecil must be hungry," he realized suddenly. Robin felt around his belt. Ramón had given him some food for the trip. It was only dried jerky but he could share it. The fox wouldn't eat much.

Cecil immediately perked up as Robin's hand moved toward his belt. He hopped up, his nose following the boy's fingers closely. What kind of treat he was expecting, Robin wasn't sure, but food or smoke pellet, the fox would likely be ecstatic. He pulled out a couple of strips and tossed one onto the blanket for the animal.

"Do you want some?" Robin offered a strip to Roy.

Roy's stomach rumbled. It had been a long time since he and Artemis had breakfast. When he thought of how much had happened since then, it felt like another lifetime. He plucked the strip out of the Boy Wonder's hand and bit into it.

"We need to find those pills, Roy," Robin said as he retrieved another piece of jerky for himself.

* * *

Robin coughed again and the pain in his chest nearly doubled him over. He felt breathless afterwards but did his best to hide it. They needed to leave early enough to beat the darkness. He couldn't allow Roy to keep them here overnight. He wouldn't be able to travel fast so it was already past time to go.

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere," Roy told him; standing up. "You know that, right?"

Robin rolled off of the bed in the other direction. "I'll rest when we get back. Promise."

"Hey! You stay put and get warm," Roy barked at him. "I'll find the antibiotics for Conner."

"Two people looking will cut time in half," Robin said but he paused by the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided. It felt like it had been forever since he had been warm.

"We could rest here overnight," Roy suggested as Robin knew he would. "We could get a head start in the morning. At least we'd have the light, and wouldn't have to rush."

Robin was shaking his head. "No. Conner doesn't have that kind of time. I mean it, Roy. That infection is going to kill him if we don't get these meds to him as soon as possible."

He left the warmth of the fire to head back into the main part of the cabin. The light that made it through the small windows was weak. He lit a lantern to help him search the dark areas better.

"I understand that, but I can't help but worry about you, too, kiddo," Roy complained as he followed the younger boy out of the bedroom. "The trip here was harsh, but even if we manage to get down the cliff before the sun sets, the trip back is going to be even harder in the dark."

Robin didn't bother to look at him as he began opening doors to the cabinets. _Where did Ramón say he kept his meds again_?

"Then we need to hurry," he said, pawing through various items in case the pills were behind something.

* * *

"Are you even listening to me? I'm serious here, Rob. You aren't up for this," Roy told him angrily.

Finally Robin spun around to face the older teen. Roy was taken aback by the anger and determination he found in his friend's face.

"I will **_not_** _abandon_ my teammate," Robin snarled at him through clenched teeth. "I'm going to do this with or without you, or die in the trying!"

"And if I stop you?"

"You _won't_ ," Robin declared hotly. "I won't let you stop me, and I won't forgive you if you try."

Roy blinked, obviously surprised by Robin's vehemence. "And I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you," he retorted softly.

Some of the tension drained out the younger teen. "Then I guess you have a problem then, don't you? I'm leaving as soon as I find those pills so I suggest you bank the fire before we go. I'd feel really bad if we accidentally burnt Ramón's cabin down."

"This is a mistake," Roy insisted.

"Then you can tell me 'I told you so' all you like, but later . . . after we get back to the shack," Robin told him over his shoulder. He was back to searching for the pills.

"What good is it to say 'I told you so' if you're dead and can't hear it," Roy muttered.

He'd done what he could. Part of him knew he should probably force the issue. In Rob's weakened state he'd be no match for the older teen but Rob's stubbornness and moral code was stronger than anything Roy had ever been up against. If he didn't want the boy following him, he had no doubt he would be force to tie him up but Roy also knew in that instance that if he did anything to try to stop him, Robin would never forgive him. Roy would end up losing his friend. In their line of work, one didn't just throw away friends for any old reason.

He would just have to help him when the time came . . . And it would. Robin paused in his search to cough again. Roy didn't miss how he clutched at his chest in the middle of it. Maybe Robin had been getting better before this insanity but that was no longer the case. The boy was a liability to himself and Roy was certain that he would end up dead without his help.

Walking over to the fireplace, he banked the fire regretfully. The cabin was only just beginning to feel comfortable. Turning around, Roy prepared to help search when Robin suddenly whooped.

"Here it is! Right where he said it would be," Robin announced.

He held up an orange prescription bottle. Roy watched him start shoving the pills and other supplies into a canvas bag. After another moment, Robin closed the door to the cabinet and start toward the door. Roy met him there.

"Hold up. We need to get you something warmer for the trip back. A hat, at least," Roy said.

"I had one, but lost it going up the cliff." Robin admitted. "Hurry, though, or I'm going without it."

"Have you always had this death wish, chum?" Roy muttered as he rummaged in a chest set near the door.

"Here's one," he said, waving the toboggan in the air. It was black and worked well with Robin's uniform colors. "Knitted rather than furry, but warm." He shoved it over Robin's head and grinned at his young friend.

"Now, for a coat," Roy turned back to the chest.

"No," Robin argued. "Anything that Ramón has will be too big and bulky on me. I need my mobility to get down that cliff,"

Roy looked at him like he was crazy. "And when night finally falls, the temperatures are going to plummet. Your uniform is lighter than mine and compromised with that split and all those tears."

Ignoring him, Robin opened the door. Stepping out, the cold air attacked his lungs, immediately setting off another round of coughing. Cecil scrambled to follow before Roy slammed the door behind him.

"This is ridiculous! You have no business out here," he snapped. "Look, give me the medical supplies for Conner and you stay here. I'll start the fire for you again. I'll come back for you tomorrow."

Robin ignored him. As soon as his coughing eased he found his snowshoes and sat on the step to lace them around his boots. The fox rolled in the snow a few feet in front of him, ready to play.

Roy growled in frustration. "You are a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, aren't you?"

"So, I've heard," Robin murmured, unconcerned. He shrugged. "It's not the worst thing I've been called."

Roy jerked his handmade snowshoes off of the peg where he had put them and threw himself down next to his friend in obvious annoyance. He worked on putting them on in stiff silence. He finished at the same time as Rob, just adding to the certainty that younger was in no condition to begin this journey.

When they stood up Robin wobbled as he attempted to gain his balance. Roy narrowed his eyes.

"You're dizzy, aren't you?" He accused.

"Are you going be like this the entire way back?" Robin grouched. He adjusted the bag with its precious cargo and started forward. Cecil ran forward several yards, then turned, and ran back to circle the boy before started off again.

"I have half a mind to tell Batman exactly what all you've been up to when we finally get out of here." He easily pulled ahead of his slower companion.

The retort he had been expecting didn't materialize, however. Robin didn't blow him off, nor did he beg him not to tell. After a few more shuffling steps his curiosity got the better of him and Roy looked back.

Robin was shuffling along, with his head down his exhaustion was evident. The wind wasn't all that bad at the moment so it wasn't to shield his face from the cold. Roy slowed down to let the younger boy catch up to him.

 _Why wouldn't he be worried about the Bat's temper_? Roy knew well how protective Batman was of his protégé. If Roy gave a play-by-play of this ill-conceived plan, Batman would ground Robin for a month.

He narrowed his eyes as he realized something. "You don't think we're going to get out of this, do you?"

Roy was shocked! Robin was the team's optimist. He never surrendered! Robin would simply go after the problem in a different way, from some new angle that no one else had considered. The boy simply refused to give up and this argument proved that. But that wasn't the vibe Roy was getting off of him now.

Robin glanced up at him and then back to the ground in front of him, unable to make and keep eye contact.

" _You'll_ make it," Robin answered softly. "Artemis, too."

"But not Conner? If you really feel that way then why are you risking your life like this?" Roy asked.

"What?" Robin looked at him in disbelief. "I was supposed to just sit there and watch him die? I can't do that, Roy! I don't have it in me to do nothing when I know coming here for the antibiotics could give him a fighting chance."

He continued to rant, waving a hand at the sky angrily. "If only the sun would come out! Overton said that the sun would counteract the effects of the laser but it's been nothing but heavy clouds for days now. Even high noon looks like dusk! Nothing else seems to be helping."

"You care about him, don't you?" He asked.

Robin stared at his feet. "Well, yeah! He's my teammate . . ."

"Yeah, and . . .?"

"H-He's my _friend_ ," Robin's voice hitched. "He got hurt saving my life, Roy! He ran after me when I was swept away by the river. He followed me and jumped into the water to save me even though he no longer had his powers!" Robin looked at Roy, then. "That's how he was injured, you know. I was trapped under the water by my cape. I had been knocked unconscious and drowned. Don't you see? I was _gone_ , Roy! I was _already_ dead! Ramón had to use CPR on me to bring me back."

Robin was getting worked up and that translated to more coughs. He had to stop walking until they eased.

"You okay?" Roy asked, concerned. His friend was sounding worse by the second.

Robin gasped for breath as he continued to struggle with his emotions. "He _can't_ die, Roy! Not because of me . . ."

Ah, that made sense now. "You feel you owe him," he said knowingly.

" _No_!" Robin yelled at him and then succumbed to coughs another time. He struggled to speak. "It's not anything so mercenary as that . . ." he gasped out helplessly. "He's my f-friend. He's like, like a . . . a _brother_ to me. C-Conner took care of me . . . when I couldn't take care of myself."

Roy watched as Robin tried hard not to cry. God! Had he ever seen Robin cry before? Maybe once . . . a long time ago. Eventually the boy seemed to get himself together.

"Conner can't die, Roy," he stated firmly. "I won't let him die."

Roy considered Robin's absolute trust in the clone. It certainly seemed to be justified if what all he was telling him was true. Roy had discovered for himself that Artemis was beyond loyal. Based on what she had told him, and he couldn't see where she was lying, Artemis could have escaped the bridge easily and left him there to die. The others would have never known the truth but she had risked her own life for his. He found that he could no longer believe she was the mole. And he was beginning to doubt that Conner was either. Jumping into that frozen torrent to save Robin wasn't the action of an enemy.

He nodded. "Okay, then," Roy said. "I guess we better pick up the pace."

Unlatching his quiver, Roy pulled it around and reattached it at his side. He took off his bow as he knelt in front of Robin and started unlacing the boy's snowshoes for him.

"Hop on. I can make better time carrying you than you can trying to walk in those things."

Robin scoffed. "You can't carry me! It's too far."

"It's either this, or you go back to the cabin while I continue on by myself," Roy said. "It's going to be too dark soon to attempt the cliff unless we move faster. You decide."

It finally dawned on Robin that _he_ was problem. He looked back over his shoulder in the direction they had just come.

"I don't want to go back." His eyes were huge behind the mask. "I-I don't want to be by myself," he admitted in a whisper.

Without the whistling wind, Roy was able to hear his confession. He pretended not to. No sense in making the boy feel worse than he already did. He would have preferred Robin go back but part of him was afraid, now that he knew where everyone was, to separate them again.

He spun around, presenting his back. "Then up you go, buddy. Time's a-wasting. You can rest now and be better prepared to tackle that cliff when we get to it."

"Right," Robin agreed. "You're right. Sorry."

Cecil had returned to them during this and now pawed Robin's leg, wanting up. Without a second thought, Robin picked up the fox and the animal scrambled over his shoulder, draping himself around Robin's neck.

"What the heck?"

Rob laughed, coughing a little as a result. "He likes to ride like this," he explained.

Roy glared at the little beastie where he lay, looking at him smugly from his perch on Robin's shoulders.

"You're kidding me, right? You don't really expect me to carry him, too, do you?"

Rob didn't say anything but then he didn't have to. Roy rolled his eyes in defeat.

"Ah, hell . . . Whatever. What's another passenger, right?" He snorted. "Climb on, your highness. Your royal pack mule awaits."

"You sure?"

"Get on," Roy ordered.

After a brief hesitation Robin climbed onto Roy's back. Despite their heavier uniforms, all their gear, and the fox, too, Robin really didn't weigh all that much.

"Jeez, you weigh next to nothing! Doesn't the Bat ever feed you?"

Robin snorted in his ear. "That joke's growing old. Of course, he does."

"I didn't realize that the bird name came about from your eating habits," Roy played it off with a smirk.

* * *

Robin really was pretty light, though and he couldn't help but wonder how much weight the boy lost in the last few days. All either of them had to eat today had been jerky. He was suddenly glad he had hauled that deer haunch with him. He would make sure Robin ate something once they returned to the shack. He was as determined to get the younger boy through this as Robin was to save Conner. If he could just get them back tonight maybe _all_ of them could go home.

They grew quiet as Roy continued to shuffle steadily with his burden toward the cliff's edge. He kept checking the amount of light through the branches of the trees, judging the time as best he could without getting a glimpse of the sky beyond the heavy clouds. He kept his ears sharp for the dangerous sounds of creaking and cracking in the branches above them.

Occasionally the fox would make a low noise but he must be used to traveling on someone's shoulders because he didn't make a fuss to get down. Roy appreciated the extra warmth he provided for Robin. As for himself, he admitted that Cecil's tail helped him stay warmer as it lay against his own neck as well.

After a while Roy began to suspect that Robin had fallen asleep. The boy's forehead had dropped onto his shoulder some time ago. Rob's breathing was still labored but it was far easier than it had been during the time he had been walking on his own. The boy was obviously weak but Roy didn't blame Ramón for not keeping Robin from trying for the cabin. Roy had trouble keeping the boy still for more than a few minutes at a time as well.

A glimpse through the trees revealed the valley below. They were almost back to the cliff now. He judged they had thirty minutes at the most. The light had dimmed perceptively during the hike. Roy had left his grapple arrows in place, however, and the top one still had about four hundred feet of cable. With Robin's grapple gun as backup, Roy was feeling almost optimistic about their chances of getting down alive. Even so, they would be cutting it close.

* * *

His mind was already working out the logistics of getting them down. That's the only reason he didn't notice the creak of a twig and the rustle of a heavy body against the naked branches of the tree above them.

A hundred and fifty feet . . . That was how close they were to their goal when it happened.

They had just entered the clearing when it struck them. The heavy body hit with such force that Roy went tumbling, his clumsy snowshoes shattering on impact. Robin and his fox were thrown from their perch and went rolling across the snow.

Roy lifted his face from the snow and gaped. Between them stood the tawny figure of a mountain lion. Robin had rolled onto his side, coughing. He had yet seen the threat. The fox had and stood its ground beside the boy, arching its back and barking madly. A piercing, howling cry that was as startling as it was loud.

The cat was twenty times its size. It curled its mouth and revealed long fangs that would tear through a human's frail skin in no time. The cougar batted its paw in the air and roared at the smaller animal. Cecil back up until it was against Robin's shoulder.

Roy scrambled to pull his bow from over his shoulder. Yanking out an arrow, he notched and fired it but the cougar was quick, leaping out of the way at the last second. Foam spilled out harmlessly over the frozen ground. He looked down, unsure where his net arrow was since his quiver was hanging crooked and tangled at his side.

"Shit! Where the fuck is it?" He pulled out another, but it wasn't the one he was looking for.

 _Handcuff arrow_? _Hm, maybe it could slow the cat down_ . . .

The little fox was sticking near Robin but it was no match for a predator so large. Roy stood up, releasing his arrow all in one move. This time it worked and the handcuffs snapped over one of the cat's thick paws. He wasn't able to get both but the cuffs distracted it from Robin and Cecil.

Robin sat up obviously confused, attracting its attention again. The mountain lion stopped biting at the cuff and suddenly pounced. Instinct took over as the boy fell back and rolled forward, causing the cat to miss its target. The animal twisted around, swatting the boy. Because he was sick, Robin's reflexes were off. Although he tried to dodge, the claws swept over his upper back and shoulder, tearing easily through his uniform and leaving bloody grooves in its wake.

Out of time, Roy leapt forward, swinging his bow in an arc that caught the cat across its nose. It screamed as it shook its head and ran a few feet away from the weapon. Several days of harsh weather had left its normal prey scarce and made the puma desperate. Instead of running towards the safety of the forest the animal turned to face the threat. Hunger made it more than willing to fight for its next meal.

* * *

"Robin, are you okay?" Roy asked Robin without looking away from the animal in front of him.

The boy hissed in pain. " _Ngh_ ," he grunted. "Not great . . . Been better."

"I need you to move away while I distract it," Roy told him.

Disoriented, Robin blinked the tears of pain from his eyes. He looked around him and discovered they were by the cliff. He must have fallen asleep during the hike. If he had remained awake would he have been able to detect the big cat before it had attacked? Would it have mattered if he had? The animal was huge.

"Move? There's nowhere to go!" But he crawled backwards several feet anyway as Roy positioned himself between Robin and the cougar.

Cecil was still spitting mad. He remained crouched, his was tail stiff as he yowled at the predator. Robin climbed to his feet. His head was spinning. His hands searched his pouches for something to use against the animal. He pulled out a tranquilizer. It was strong for a human but Robin wasn't sure if it would be as effective to something as large as a male cougar.

The cougar was well over seven feet in length from nose to the tip of the tail. Robin could only guess at its weight but he thought it had to be pushing two hundred pounds of pure muscle. If he hadn't have been moving when the cat had struck him, Robin suspected it might have killed him with the blow. But he was moving too slow. If the beast attacked him again, Robin had little chance of either avoiding or surviving it.

The tranq 'gun' was a miniature version of a blow dart but instead of Robin having to blow the dart out using lung power alone, something he was sorely missing at the moment, this was set up with compressed air. The trouble was, although he had two darts, the mini tranq gun held only had enough compressed air for one shot.

He had just one chance to make this work. Something not easy to do when one's head was spinning.

"Roy, move! I'm going to try to tranquilize him," Robin called to his teammate.

"You have tranquilizers?" He sounded surprised. "Well, don't just stand there. Do it already!"

Roy backed up slowly as the cat shot looks back and forth between them. It realized that these two were trickier than its usual prey and it became cautious. Robin aimed carefully.

The cougar moved at the same time Robin fired and the dart caught him on his hip rather than high on the shoulder as Robin had hoped. It noticed the pain, however, and twisted about, spinning around in order to bite at the sharp sting. Rolling over in the snow once, the cat managed to dislodge the dart but it had already had enough time to release the drug.

Wild and angry, the puma twisted about once more and sprang. Roy tried to dodge but the mountain lion caught him high on his chest and the two of them went tumbling across the snow. They slid down toward the cliff's edge, coming to a stop only a few yards away. Roy ended up on bottom of the pile with his bow shoved into the beast's mouth. The furious cat was snarling and gnashing its teeth on the shaft. Popping sounds indicated the bow was weakening under the onslaught.

The snow became stained as deep scratches along Roy's shoulders and upper arms began bleeding freely. The mountain lion could still kill Roy with claws alone before the drug could stop him. The tranquilizer wasn't working quickly enough and the animal's adrenaline was fighting its effects. Roy drew his legs up to prevent the cat from gutting him with his hind claws only for the cougar to tear through flesh and armor alike.

It snarled and screamed around the bow, intent on killing its opponent.

Worried for Roy's life, Robin palmed the second dart in one hand and pulled out his grapple with the other. He needed to overwhelm the cougar sooner rather than later and return Roy's favor by drawing the cat away from the older teen. He was hurt, though, and no match for the animal even on a good day. The cat would be on him in seconds, unless . . .

With no more time left Robin ran at the struggling pair, throwing himself into the cougar's side. He slammed the second dart home just below its neck as the two of them toppled and fell away from Roy. The cat released the bow and returned to face its original target . . . the sick one. Robin scrambled to get out of its way even as he aimed his grapple into a large tree that extended out over the lip of the bluff. The mountain lion moved in to attack but Robin kicked out hard, catching the cat in its jaw and snapping its mouth closed violently.

He quickly fired off the line and hit recoil. The grapple yanked him out from under the lunging animal before it could crush him. As Robin slid along the icy snow at the gun's highest speed, the cat bounded after him as he had hoped and gave Roy his precious recovery time.

Before the puma could pounce again Robin shot off the edge of the cliff and swung out over the valley far below. He used his momentum to arc up and land onto the branch below his grapple hook. Robin's balance was thrown off by another violent coughing fit. Nearly tumbling off the other side, Robin seized the branch above him and held on tight.

He glanced back at Roy who was struggling to climb onto his hands and knees. The snow around him was stained red with his blood. But Robin's attention was drawn back to his own situation as the cougar climbed the tree and stepped out onto the limb after him.

The cat shook its head. The tranquilizers were beginning to work but would it kick in soon enough? Robin's hook had tangled around the branch above his head. It would take a minute to get it free. Unfortunately, it was a minute he didn't have.

The mountain lion moved closer, stalking him, when it suddenly startled and snarled in pain almost knocking it off of its perch. Robin's eyes widened behind his mask when he spotted Cecil hanging from the big cat's tail, his sharp teeth latched on to the appendage tight.

"Cecil! No! Get back," Robin ordered.

The cat was torn between the fox behind him and the boy in front of him. It swatted at one and then the other. Although Robin jumped back to avoid him, the cougar's claws tore through his side and knocked him from his perch. Only his precarious grip on his grapple gun saved him from plummeting to his death some nine hundred feet below.

Angry, the cat swatted the cable and tried to bite it, causing Robin to swing perilously over the valley floor. His hands slick with his own blood, he struggled to hang on. Warmth ran in a generous flow along his side. His body felt such excruciating pain ripping through him that he knew he was in danger of passing out. Black spots wavered in front of his eyes.

"Robin!" Roy was on his hands and knees near the edge of the cliff. "H-Hang on! I'll get you."

* * *

The cougar wasn't through yet. Cecil had leapt free when Robin had fallen and the little fox bounded over toward Roy as the cat followed more slowly. Roy struggled to notch another arrow. The right one this time . . . By drawing the cat away, Robin had given him time to search his quiver for the arrow he was looking for. He fought to steady his aim. His arms were shaking and Roy's fingers refused to work correctly.

 _Nerve damage_? _Possible_ , his arms were shredded.

If that wasn't enough, Roy's bow was in danger of snapping under the strain after the wildcat had gnawed on it. Luckily, he only needed one shot. It stalked him, stumbling like it was drunk, giving him the time he needed to draw the bow string. He released the arrow and a red net shot out, ensnaring the cat. It struggled, screaming and growling for another minute before the last of its energy leeched from its system. The beast collapsed as it panted, still emitting a low rumbling growl.

Once the danger passed Roy's bow dropped from limp fingers and he sat back on his heels, as physically exhausted as the drugged mountain lion before him.

He glanced about him. It looked as if a slaughter had occurred on the plateau. Bloody snow and long streaks of red covered a huge swath of territory. How was it they were not all dead?

"L-Little help?" Robin's weakened voice drifted to him.

Gasping, Roy turned back to where the younger boy still dangled. He could see the line quivering in response of Robin's violent quaking. Although it was hard to tell in the growing darkness, Robin was obviously bleeding as heavily as Roy. The jagged tears Robin had received during the fight with the cougar were visible even at a distance. The boy's face was white against the dark mask he wore.

 _He's falling into shock_ , Roy realized in alarm. _He's going to pass out soon_!

Roy pulled off his gloves, surprised as a thin stream of blood poured from them. His hands were red with it. The ground seemed to move under him as his head threatened to float away. _Damn it_! He was obviously having his own problems with blood loss. Now that he wasn't in danger of being gutted the searing agony of his injuries tore through him. He imagined he looked as bad, if not worse, than Rob did but refused to assess his own injuries. Even if he had the time, doing so would likely only make his wounds hurt more.

He attempted to pick up his bow only to have it slip out of his hands. His fingers were clumsy . . . slick. His arms were trembling. Roy grabbed a handful of snow to clean them off and tried picking it up once more. What arrows did he have left? He was having trouble remembering. He knew that his grapple arrows and all the line he had were still below him on the cliff face. He'd have to climb down in order to reach the one nearest him. It was only a couple of feet but it might as well been a thousand for all that he could currently manage.

"Hang on, Rob," he panted. His respiration and heartrate were fast . . . _too_ fast. A symptom of his blood loss, he knew. _Not good_. "I'm coming."

Roy yanked out his arrows, searching for one that would allow him to pull Robin to safety. Panic flared as he clumsily tugged each free only to discard it as worthless. He didn't have anything left that could help!

He shoved himself to his feet, weaving and stumbling past the sleeping cougar . . . towards the tree from which the boy still dangled helplessly.

"Robin! Can you hit recoil? Let the grapple gun do the work for you," he yelled at him. "I'll climb out on the branch and pull you in." He wasn't sure how exactly but not trying wasn't an option.

"S-Slipping . . ." Coughing, labored and severe, followed.

Roy spared a glance at his friend as he attempted to pull himself up into the tree. The light was fading fast now. Darkness was nearly upon them. Tackling the cliff was out of the question now. They were injured. In their condition it would take two or three times as long to reach the cabin. Roy wasn't in any shape to carry Robin anywhere this time around.

"Roy? I c-can't . . . hold it," Rob's voice was barely a whisper but the fear Roy could hear in it was real.

" _Yes, you can_! I'm coming to get you," Roy promised through clenched teeth. He'd climb down the blasted cord if he had to, even as his brain told him that would only result in both of their deaths. But he had to try . . . He had to!

His muscles protested his movements. His strength was waning . . . His fingers becoming increasingly uncoordinated, refusing to do his bidding.

 _No_! _No_! _God, not now_!

He pushed his body onward, stretching to reach the next branch above his head to pull himself up. His boot slipped and Roy landed at the base of the tree in a heap. His body slammed across several exposed roots and he felt a couple of his ribs snap. A stabbing pain shot through him and his breath exploded out from his lungs. A red haze of agony engulfed him.

" ** _Roy_** **?!** "

He bit back a groan. "C-Coming . . . H-Hang on," he gasped. Dizzy, growing progressively weaker, Roy fought hard just to climb to his hands and knees.

Roy turned his head to look just as Robin's hands gave out and he slipped from view. He stared in disbelief! Robin had been there one moment, and the next, he was gone! There was nothing remaining but the boy's grapple gun . . . It swung back and forth in the open air just a few feet beyond the edge of the precipice.

" ** _Rob_** **!** ** _Nooooo_** **!** "

Roy attempted to crawl to edge but his arms gave out completely and he collapsed in what was quickly becoming a mush of blood and snow. His vision tunneled and darkness engulfed him.

Whining, Cecil settled next to the unconscious teen as the last of daylight slid from sight.

* * *

 **REACTIONS? :O**

 **Uh Oh . . .**

 **I won't be posting to any other stories until "Derailment" is complete. So, you can spend the time until the next chapter contemplating how (or "if") our heroes get out of this one. Doesn't look good! Conner, dying without any meds to help him; an injured Robin, falling from unimaginable heights; Roy, bleeding out on a lonely cliff top.**

 **The question remains: Do you trust me? ;D**


	26. Missing

**Yeah, okay . . . So, I lied. Not purposely, mind you, but when I reached 3845 words and had only finished the first scene, I knew I would have to split the chapter up. Better to have more chapters than to be rushed . . . But I promise - LOTS of DaddyBats!**

 **Just to clarify this for you, this scene is before the "Journeys" scene. A full day and a half BEFORE Robin ever left the shack.**

 **Warning: Can't think of any . . .**

* * *

No one gave the man more than a second glance. After all, they were too busy meeting friends and family or searching for luggage, eager to leave the station and resume their lives. Not easy when the world outside the railroad terminal was white. He had black hair and wore a neatly trimmed beard and tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses. He was a big man, but if any noticed, they attributed it to his sweater and heavy coat. He stood in the middle of the train station and searched the faces of everyone coming and going.

Not really. He was actually looking for specific faces. Of the four he was searching for, it was one in particular that he most wanted to see. The week felt interminable and it was affecting his mood. M'gann and Wally had gone silent, their conversation kept on a psychic link that seldom would include him. Anything to avoid disturbing the Bat, he suspected.

Originally, Miss Martian was to be here to greet the team. Her attempts at impersonating the opposite gender were improving and this would have been good practice for her, except . . . He missed him. Bruce missed his son. The opportunity to lay eyes on the bright, happy boy, that his world seem to revolve around, early, even by ten minutes, was too good to pass up. As Batman, he would have had to forego any emotional greeting for the sake of the mask but, meeting Dick here as his father, Bruce would be required to hug his son. To do otherwise, would be a break in character . . . The edge of his mouth lifted in anticipation as he waited.

Except . . . He didn't see him. Not Dick, nor Conner who was impersonating his brother, nor Artemis or Roy who were pretending to be a couple. True, the crowd had been heavy when the passengers began departing but Dick would have recognized him in a heartbeat had he been among them. Even as those crowds thinned out somewhat, there still was no sign of his boy nor his teammates.

Unease began to circulate in his gut.

Perhaps they were waiting until most of the civilians had departed but that deviated from the plan. If they had been able to capture the agent of the Light that they had been after, Robin would know enough to send someone out to meet him.

Eventually, the activity began dying down but the terminal was not deserted. Dozens of people remained stranded by the weather or else complaining to the management about something. Bruce wandered over even as he contacted Miss Martian and Kid Flash through the link.

 _There's something wrong_ , he told them. _There has been no sign of the team_.

The train had been hours late arriving due to the arctic cold front that had passed through the area over the last week. Although it was no longer the white-out conditions of the past few days, snow continued to fall lightly. Prince Rupert was still attempting to dig itself out in order to allow for emergency vehicles to operate. The storm had left this half of the team, Miss Martian and Kid Flash, fighting boredom. Since the airports had been closed, it hadn't taken much to scan the hundreds of travelers stranded within. There had been no sign of an agent of the Light.

They had managed to cover three of the major airports that Batman had suspected could be used as transport before the weather had grown so bad as to ground the Bioship as well. Two days of nothing to do but wait and see if the rest of the team had had any success. Even Bruce's patience had begun to wear thin in the presence of a hyperactive Kid Flash, making him as anxious to see the rest of the team as it had the annoying speedster.

 _Miss Martian, see if you can contact them through the link_ , he ordered.

A moment passed before she came back with worrisome news.

 _I can't find them_ , she admitted.

 _Are you close enough to establish a link_?

The question seemed ridiculous. If she could link up with him in the station, certainly she would be close enough to locate four minds on the train in front of him. The worry, however, was forming an ugly knot in his stomach. Where were Dick and the others?

 _Something is going on over here_ , he told them. _I'm going to see what is happening. In the meantime, I want you two to search the train but don't allow yourselves to be seen_.

 _On our way_ , Kid Flash thought at him through the link.

* * *

Bruce listened to the complaints as he joined the crowd at one end of the station. Apparently, all of these people were missing luggage. He picked out small suitcases and overnight bags aplenty. Apparently, only the larger items were gone. _Strange_.

"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked a middle-aged woman standing near the back.

"Do you work for the railway?" she answered by asking.

"No, but I need to speak to someone myself. I seem to be missing something rather important," he admitted.

"Get in line," the woman told him.

She swung a purple scarf around her neck and tugged impatiently on her matching leather gloves. "I had several antiques I was transporting here. The railway told me they'd be safe in one of the baggage cars but, not only are my antiques missing, so too is the baggage car they were stored in!"

Bruce blinked at that tidbit of vital information. He glanced behind him and saw, in the distance, one recognizable baggage car at the end of the line. According to this woman, there were supposed to be two. Was that where the Light's agents had been storing the 'merchandise'?

 _But What would have necessitated the removal of an entire train car_? he wondered silently.

 _Batman_? _I've been through the majority of the train but except for a skeleton housekeeping crew, I've seen no one_ , Kid Flash interrupted his thoughts.

 _Have you checked the cabins where they were staying_?

 _I did that_ , Miss Martian said through the link. _Both doors were lock. I managed to pass through one of them, however_.

 _You did_? Kid Flash congratulated her. _That's awesome! Is this the first time you were able to pull that off_?

 _Without my uncle J'onn to help, yes_! _First time_ , Miss Martian chirped excitedly.

 _That's excellent, M'gann_ , Bruce interjected, _but you need to stay focused. What did you find_?

 _Oh, sorry, Batman_ , Miss Martian replied, chagrined. _It looks like the team left in a hurry. A chair is overturned in one of the cabins and a window is still open in the other. That entire compartment is covered in snow! It looks like they've been gone for quite a while_.

Bruce was edging toward the front of the crowd to hear what the company had to say about the missing baggage car.

 _How'd they get off the train, though_? Kid Flash asked. _There weren't any scheduled stops between Jasper and Prince Rupert_.

The man in the business suit was busy calming people, reassuring them that there would be an investigation into the missing car and, if necessary, reimburse them for their losses. Bruce stepped over to the conductor.

"Excuse me, but does anyone have any idea what happened to the missing car?" he asked the man.

The conductor ran a harried hand through his light-brown hair. "I'm sorry," he said, handing Bruce a form. "If you'll fill this out with your name and the nature of your loss, the company will do everything it can to locate or reimburse you."

"Does that mean you have no idea what occurred on your train?" Bruce frowned at him.

"There were a number of reports from people in the last passenger car of a loud bang, almost like an explosion at one point during the trip. Although, when we sent porters to investigate the matter, there were no more noises to be heard and no damage could be found in the first baggage car . . ."

Bruce nodded. "And so, they saw no reason to investigate further."

"Unfortunately, no. As it was, the second baggage car wasn't discovered to be missing until the train pulled into the station," the man admitted reluctantly.

"Has anyone determined where the train was when the noise was reported?" This was information that Bruce would find valuable.

The conductor scratched his head. "Ah, I think it was mid-way. The train had just hit the full brunt of the incoming storm and there were numerous other concerns distracting the crew on board."

"Mid-way?" _That would have been two nights ago_ . . . The team had been on their own in the middle of one of the worst storms the Pacific West Coast of Canada had seen in more than three decades? That knot in his belly became a ball of ice.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name?" the man asked.

Bruce smiled and lied through his teeth. "I'm a representative from the Canadian Railway's Board of Safety Commission."

The man narrowed his eyes.

Realizing he would be asking for identification, Bruce quickly introduced himself, shoving his hand out in front of him brisk and business-like in hopes of distracting him from the fact that he had gotten here practically when the train had. Bruce hadn't any identification on him except for his forged ID that named him as the father of Robert and Conner Leighton. Unfortunately, the answers he needed he couldn't get as the parent of two passengers and Bruce couldn't be tied here while a police investigation was being conducted into the disappearance of two minors . . . Not if he wanted to find them quickly.

"James Leighton," he told the man in front of him. "And you are . . .?"

"Bob Elliott." The conductor glanced at the extended hand before taking it. "Mr. Leighton. You'll probably want to discuss this with Mr. Avery over there but he's a little busy at the moment reassuring the passengers who had belongings stored on the missing car."

"Of course. I will use the time to do a preliminary inspection while I wait," Bruce told him.

"Oh, ah . . ." the man glanced nervously behind him, unsure of what he should do. "Would you like me to accompany you?"

"I'm sure I can find my own way to the back of the train. Thank you, Mr. Elliott" Bruce said, lightly.

"Right . . . right. I'll let Mr. Avery know you are here." Bob agreed.

"No rush. Let's take care of these good people first, shall we? I doubt anything's going to change in the next . . ." Bruce looked at the number of people present, "hour or so."

"Of course. Very good, Mr. Leighton," Bob stepped back and resumed handing out forms for the remaining passengers to fill out.

Bruce headed to the back of the train with a determined step. He had no doubt that Robin and the team had been on that baggage car with the Lights' agents when it was separated from the rest of the train. Proof was merely a formality but he was hoping that something might be present to give him some idea of what happened two nights ago.

 _Miss Martian, Kid Flash, meet me behind the baggage car in ten_ , he instructed. _Remain out of sight._

He ignored their acknowledgements. He knew they would follow orders. Bruce's mind was already on the problem at hand. Reaching the baggage car, Bruce hopped lightly down to the tracks, startling the two other men that were already there inspecting what appeared to be an alarming amount of damage to the rear of the car.

"James Leighton of the Canadian Railway's Board of Safety Commission," he announced immediately. "What do you know?"

The two men snapped to attention as if they were in the military.

"Oh! Um, yes sir," the first man stuttered. He had red hair and a moustache.

He turned towards the car again, running a palm lightly across the less damaged area while drawing Bruce's attention to the heavier damage that had torn the thick aluminum body to shreds. A large hole took out part of the lower half of the car although it did not expose the interior nor did it interfere with the smooth running of the wheels. Nothing to convince the porters to brave the elements in order to investigate the noise.

"Obviously there was an explosion of some kind but nothing was listed in the contents of the baggage car that might have accounted for it," Red Moustache told him. "We have a policy against carry anything volatile aboard a passenger train, as you are aware."

The other man had spiky blond hair. He leaned down to peer underneath. "Whatever it was took out the coupling but the damage appears to be local. Whatever it was, it must have been inside the other baggage car. Had it been outside, I think, it would have caused this car to derail as well."

Red Moustache shook his head. "That would have been bad. The only thing that saved this car from derailment was the destruction of that coupling. If this car had been derailed, it would have been like stack of dominos . . . the whole train would have followed."

"A catastrophe, to be sure, eh?" Spiky Blond agreed. "We were lucky it was only luggage and cargo in the rear and not people. I heard from Jasper that the train that hit the car was shoved over a hill or off a bridge or something."

Bruce's head snapped up and he grabbed the blond man by his shirt. "What was that? What did you say?"

Spiky Blond's eyes widened in alarm. "Uh, take it easy. I'm just telling you what I heard!"

"Why didn't the conductor mention this to me?" Bruce asked in a growl, his Batman voice creeping out.

"I-I don't know! Maybe he doesn't know yet? I just found out myself when I was in the office with Tammy, a few minutes ago. The train from Prince Rupert to Jasper just pulled in only a half an hour ago itself, what with the storm and all. The engineer just reported it. Communications have been down because of the blizzard all along the route."

"Besides there are places within the Rockies where you just can't get a connection no matter the weather or time of year," Red Moustache added.

If Robin and his team were engaging the Light's agents on the baggage car then that explained what had happened to it. If they survived the derailing of the railcar, the question remained, had they still been on board when the second train struck baggage car? Was the team dead? Injured?

 _Dear God, it had been two days already since this happened_! _And the blizzard on top of it all_!

Real fear chilled his blood.

 _Dick_!

He shoved his wayward emotions into a box and slammed the lid shut. His son couldn't afford the time wasted wrestling with his fear and worry.

"Did the other engineer report where the incident happened?" he asked, taking a breath.

Spiky Blond exchanged glances with his companion. "Somewhere near the Dezaiko Viaduct."

"Thank you, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me," Bruce leapt from the tracks with all speed. If he did so with enviable athletic ability, he did not care.

 _Forget the train_ , Bruce commanded through the link. _Meet me at the Bioship_.

With this new information the mission parameters had just changed. No longer was their concern the retrieval of the rumored 'merchandise'. . . This had just become a rescue mission!

* * *

"So, you think the team had confronted the agents aboard the last baggage car and that the explosion that separated it from the rest of the train was a result of that battle?" Miss Martian summarized once Batman had returned to the bioship and changed back into his uniform.

"But you said the railroad reported that this happened _two days ago_? And we're just hearing about it _now_?" Kid Flash was pacing back and forth.

The boy's nervous energy was being expended in vibrations, making his image blurry and disconcerting to look at. Batman had too much to do to spend time reassuring the teen of things he couldn't control. He had only just found this information out himself.

"Wally, communications are touch and go in the mountains as it is," M'gann told him. "With the storm, nothing was going in or out."

Wally spun about and glared at her. "But if things are this bad here in Prince Rupert, how much worse must they be in the middle of the Rockies?"

At this, Batman spoke up. "The team is resourceful. Red Arrow has extensive wilderness survival training and I have taken Robin camping a number of times myself. He will not be completely at a loss as to what he needs to do to survive."

"Except you didn't take Rob out camping in the middle of a blizzard," Kid retorted.

"He's faced Mr. Freeze on countless occasions, however," Batman finally connected with the NOAA's weather satellite images for the North American Pacific coastal region. His eyes narrowed at what the display was telling him.

Wally threw his arms up in a dramatic display and yelled at him. " _Aren't you worried at all_? Don't you care that we don't know what's happened to them? _My God_ , are you even _human_ under that mask?"

"Wally . . ." M'gann reached for his arm.

Batman raised his head to meet the infuriated gaze of his son's best friend with careful calm.

"And tell me, Wallace, how does ranting, pacing, and flinging one's arms about resolve the situation or bring us any closer to rescuing your teammates? The danger they are in is real," he admitted in a growl. "They cannot afford the time it takes to play out these little dramas. If I seem emotionless and uncaring to you, it is only because I am doing everything I can to locate them . . . Now, stand down and get your head back into the game or I will send you back to Mount Justice on the next zeta beam."

Kid Flash looked startled, but he suddenly seemed to realize, not only how ineffectual and unhelpful his outburst had been, but that he was holding up his friends' rescue by distracting Batman from his investigation. He took a breath, and then another.

"Okay, fine . . . I'm calm now," he said after a moment. "What can we do to help?"

Batman's gaze flipped up to meet his once again. "Better. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot that you can do at this point."

He sighed, angling the equipment around so that the two teenagers could see it more easily over his shoulders. He pointed to the weather system.

"The worst of the storm seems to have passed but from what this is telling me, I doubt even the Bioship could brave the weather in order to begin a search." He looked up at the Martian girl standing at his elbow for confirmation.

M'gann leaned in as she searched the information on the screen. After a long minute she straightened, shaking her head sadly.

"No," she agreed with Batman's conclusions. "No the winds are too fierce and the cloud cover is too low. It looks like it is skimming the peaks of the mountains. Visibility is too poor to travel above it, and it would be too difficult to attempt to brave the wind sheers coming through the valleys. We would likely be in need of rescue ourselves if we tried it."

"So what does that mean?" Wally asked softly. "That they're stuck out there without hope of rescue?"

"It means that they're on their own for a little while longer," Batman grimaced internally. He wasn't any happier with the news than his companions. He swung around to face M'gann. "Can you get a message through to the Watchtower?"

"Possibly. Although the weather is still bad here, we aren't surrounded by mountains. I could send a communique on a tight beam directly to their coordinates. They should be able to receive it." She bit her lip as she considered the problem.

"Visuals?" he asked.

"I doubt it. Any visuals would be broken up by static," she shrugged. "I could try, though. Is it to the League in general or were you looking for someone specifically?"

"Contact Black Canary," he said. "She can get ahold of Green Arrow. He should know that both of his protégés are missing. And see how soon Superman is scheduled to return from his mission."

"Superman?" Kid Flash grimaced. "Would he even care that Superboy is missing in the middle of a blizzard? Conner is invulnerable to the cold. Out of the four of them, he's probably the only one we don't have to worry about."

"Be that as it may," he reminded Kid, "with his vision, he might be able to search for them despite the weather."

"What about one of the League's ships?" M'gann asked suddenly. "Could one of the Javelins handle the weather system?"

Batman leaned back in his seat. "No. No, it would be under the same stresses as the Bioship and the Javelin is larger, giving it less ability to maneuver within the rugged peaks. Still, we may need the extra room when the time comes. The Bioship is likely to be cramped with the mentors and the team as well."

M'gann nodded as she turned away. "I'll see if I can raise the Watchtower for you."

Batman was already determining what the message would need to contain.

Location of the team was the first priority. One cannot rescue what one cannot find. Even the trackers sewn into Robin's uniform wasn't reaching him. No help from that source. It would be something he would be correcting in the future. He wanted to be able to locate his son from anywhere on earth at a moment's notice. Had his technology been up to the task, Batman might have known two days ago that the team was in trouble. Not that they would have been able to mount a rescue then, they would have been in the same situation then as they were now.

His mind wandered briefly to the Batwing. He could call the plane to their location. Its maneuverability was easily on par with the Bioship, but he wasn't sure that it was any more capable of piloting in that storm. As much as he was tempted to try it, the Batwing hadn't the space to accommodate more than Robin and possibly one other. Leaving two team members behind was not an option despite his urgent need to find his boy.

Then again, the odds of his crashing the Batwing in that mess was too high to risk it. Batman didn't want to waste resources on his rescue when it was the Dick . . . He sighed. He meant the team that was in greater need. The team . . . This wasn't just about his son, it was about the team.

His head continued to remind him of that but his heart . . . his heart continued to cry out for his boy.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **So, how was it?**

 **The fictional bridge, the Dezaiko Viaduct, is named after a mountain in the Canadian Rockies. Remember that the Rockies are supposed to be more rugged and wider than they are in life. The train doesn't follow the road for the most part (It actually does in real life, however, and there are stops normally.), but cuts through wild country. ;D Just go with it . . .**

 **A new chapter will be out soon. As soon as I try to predict a time, my schedule gets blown all to hell and back.** **You know, t** **his was the third time I wrote this . . . Third times a charm! I refuse to guesstimate how many more chapters there will be because this story continues to surprise me. I'm letting the characters determine the story length from now on.**

 **To my guest reviewer, you know who you are . . . She's right. I screwed up a lot in the last chapter, and not just punctuations. I'm editing it, slowly but surely. It will be fixed - eventually. ;D**


	27. The Search

**Warning: Some Language . . . Watch for POV changes; there are quite a few. Black Canary is the first two and then it begins to alternate between Superman and Batman throughout the rest of the chapter.**

* * *

"What the hell is taking so long?" Batman growled.

Black Canary answered him over the comlink. "We're preparing a Javelin as we speak but Superman has yet to arrive."

"The weather has finally cleared enough to begin searching for the team without Superman," Batman's growl came through the static. "He can catch up later."

Green Arrow was leaning against the console. "I agree with Bats. Those kids have been out there in a wilderness for too long. We don't know if there were any injuries or not. Roy can take care of himself but the rest of them . . . Uh, no offense to you, Bats," he inserted quickly. "I'm sure Robby's probably got an igloo built for them and everything by now."

Batman grunted. "He's never been prepared for surviving anything quite like this. The best chance any of them have is if the team was able to remain together."

Oliver raised a blond eyebrow. "No? Not even facing off with Mr. Freeze on a regular basis?"

"Surviving the cold short-term isn't the same thing," Batman snapped irritably. "This is day three already!"

"You're right; you're right," Canary agreed. "We'll be leaving in fifteen minutes, with or without Superman."

"I'm sending coordinates. We'll meet you at that location and we'll proceed from there," Batman instructed as he cut the link abruptly.

"Was it me or did Batman seem a bit stressed to you," Ollie murmured.

"He has a right to be," Dinah told him. At his look, she shrugged her shoulders and stood up. "We all do."

"Damn straight, we all do," GA muttered, offended slightly. "I have _two_ protégés on that team."

"I wasn't suggesting that you weren't as worried, Ollie," she smiled and slid a hand over his face. It was a little rough, she noted, meaning Ollie had left their quarters without shaving.

He was worried, also. Ollie hid his emotions as well, but instead of shoving all of them behind a blank unreadable wall, she could count on Green Arrow to hide behind humor or anger. Right now he was wavering, unsure of which direction to go. He trusted Roy and yet . . . he wanted to see for himself that the boy he helped raise was safe and sound.

Oliver Queen would move heaven and hell for those he loved. Dinah turned him in the direction of the landing bay as she hid an inappropriate smile of her own. It was but one of the reasons she loved the man in front of her. Many judged him but they didn't know him, not like she did.

"Let's get going before Batman paces a hole in the Bioship," she told him.

* * *

"The ship has been outfitted with extra blankets, saline IV drips, and blood in all the known types," Martian Manhunter floated lightly down the ramp. "Medicines and medical supplies have all been doubled, just in case."

"Thank you, J'onn," Canary greeted him. "Are you sure you don't want to go with us? M'gann will be there."

The green-skinned man settled on his feet in front of the blond couple. "That is appreciated, but we know that M'gann is quite safe. I feel that my presence will be more valuable by readying the medical bay here. We cannot know what, if any, injuries or illnesses have been acquired over the last three days."

Canary frowned but was nodding in agreement. "There are bound to be a few, I would think. Batman believes the team was fighting the Light's agents on the last baggage car when an explosion occurred that uncoupled it from the rest of the train."

Ollie was looking around. "Still no word on Superman? Did he say when he was due to arrive? The weather has cleared enough that we can look for them without worrying we're going to end up plastered against the side of a mountain, but since we don't know the general area we'll be searching, we could sure use some of his abilities."

"M'gann will be of some assistance, I am certain. She can use her telepathic abilities to help search for the minds of her teammates and if necessary, can use her telekinesis to assist in searching through rubble or wreckage," J'onn stated calmly.

Green Arrow snapped at him. "You say that as if you expect to find them all buried under wreckage! You'd better hope that isn't the case!" His expression wavered for a moment, giving the other two heroes a glimpse into the fear that was powering Ollie's angry outburst. "If that is what happened, then this will no longer be a rescue mission but a body retrieval one."

Dinah put a hand on his arm. "Those kids are a lot more resourceful than we give them credit for," she reminded him. "Expecting the worst will not help anyone."

But Ollie was having none of it at the moment. He stomped up the ramp in order to start going through the final checklist before departure. His two colleagues watched him go, battling their own fears in his wake. Their attention was diverted when Flash appeared before him.

"The second Javelin is just twenty minutes out," Barry announced without fanfare. "Superman and the Hawks have completed their mission but not without some complications. That is the reason for the delay apparently."

"Are they alright?" J'onn inquired.

"Katar had received some injuries but he's been stabilized. Shayera has only minor injuries," Barry informed them.

"I should meet them in the medical bay, then," J'onn said. He turned to Black Canary. "I wish you luck in locating the missing team quickly. I will be here awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you, J'onn," Dinah smiled. "Barry, is there any way they can get here faster? Did you explain the situation?"

"I told Superman that he was needed," Barry told her. "He suggested that you head out without him and he would catch up as soon as he could. He'll be close enough to earth now that he won't need to use another Javelin to follow you."

Canary nodded. That would have to do. Bruce wouldn't be pleased with another delay. At least they could get the search started at last.

"Right. Make sure you stress to him that those kids have been out in one of the worst storms in the past thirty years," Canary reminded him as she moved up the ramp. "The coordinates are in the computer of where we're meeting, but we won't be staying there. He'll have to find us."

She made her way to the cockpit and strapped herself in next to Ollie. "It won't be long now."

Green Arrow didn't say anything as he piloted the Javelin out of the docking bay and on a course back to earth.

* * *

Superman remained on the Watchtower only long enough to ensure the transfer of Hawkman to the medical bay and gain the coordinates to where he was supposed to meet Batman and the rest of the search party. He was pulling an oxygen rebreather from a storage unit when Flash appeared in the doorway behind him.

"What do we know?" he asked the other man.

"That this is day three," Flash answered. "Batman was a little put out that you didn't arrive last night. They weren't able to mount a search until now. Even this morning the winds found in the mountains were too dangerous for the Javelin or the Bioship to manage."

Flash continued as he walked with Superman to the airlock. "I'm honestly surprised that Batman waited so long. I fully expected him to have called the Batwing and gone off on his own to brave the elements without you."

Superman frowned. "The Batwing has better maneuvering than the Javelin, but it lacks the power and weight that could stabilize it in high winds."

Barry nodded. "Probably the only reason Bruce didn't try it. He didn't want to waste the manpower that would be needed to rescue him. As it is, they won't wait on you."

"Getting Katar stabilized took some effort," Clark told him. "It was a little close."

That entire mission was fiasco. He had barely been able to accomplish their goals while Shayera pulled Katar's butt out of the fire. It took longer than expected from start to finish, and he worried that the delay may have cost them dearly now.

"If you want me to fly you there, I can get another Javelin ready for takeoff in record time," Barry offered.

Clark shook his head. "That's appreciated but it wouldn't make up the time lost while flying there. I'm much faster on my own and don't have to worry about my entry trajectory." He smiled. "I can take the heat."

"It's not the heat of entering earth's atmosphere that I'm worried about," Flash quipped. "Batman's patience ended a long time ago." Barry paused, laying a hand on Superman's shoulder. "I've never seen him this worried."

"Snapping everyone's head off, is he?" Superman slid the rebreather in place over his face.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Flash stepped back as Superman entered the airlock.

The yellow sun's radiation gave him the ability to withstand the cold of space and the punishment of entering earth's atmosphere at high speeds but it didn't give him the ability to breathe without the benefit of oxygen. Larger lung capacity enabled him to hold his breath for much longer than the average human but not for long enough to handle this trip without pushing his limits. He could do it but if he passed out, it would waste more time than the Young Justice team had to spare. The heat of entry would burn the mask off of his face but he could shave off a few minutes from the time he would be without oxygen to the time he would be low enough to be able to breathe easily again without risking losing consciousness.

The sounds of the door lock sliding into place and the muffled noise of the seal being secured came to him. He turned to face the outer door lock in preparation. Barry would open it from his position. Superman took several deep breaths just as the oxygen began pumping out of the little room before he finished sealing the rebreather around his mouth and nose.

The door opened up onto the blackness of space beyond. The stars winked at him. The earth was just below his line of sight. Superman planted a foot, using the Watchtower to propel himself forward with a carefully regulated force. The boost would enable him to gain extra speed but not at the expense of shoving the Watchtower out of orbit.

 _That would not be a good thing_. Bruce would pull out the kryptonite and strangle him with it, no doubt.

Angling down, Superman headed toward the blue sphere spinning majestically beneath him. He gained speed as he got closer to the heavier upper levels of the atmosphere. Heat began building up. His rebreather wouldn't last much longer. Holding his breath, Clark ripped it away, letting it melt in his hand. There would be nothing left it by the time he was through.

Less than a minute later as he neared the coordinates, he saw the Javelin in front of him touching down in a large snow field. The bright color of the Bioship almost made it appear to be glowing against the white surroundings. A boom announced his rapid deceleration and he prepared to land just as the ramps were being lowered. Batman was out of the Bioship first; Miss Martian and Kid Flash exited behind him. Black Canary and Green Arrow stood on the ramp to greet them as they neared.

One glance, and Clark understood what Flash had meant when describing Batman's level of worry. His movements were quick and determined but there was a tension there that was almost palpable. That Batman was on edge was obvious to anyone who knew him but Clark saw that this edge was razor sharp and ready to cut anyone that was foolish enough to get in his way.

"So, what do we know?" he asked.

Batman proceeded to catch them up as they entered the Javelin. "I'll tell you on the way."

"Where are we going? Is this not the place?" Superman entered the ship behind him.

The tracks weren't visible to the naked eye buried beneath nearly sixteen inches of snow, but Superman could see them. The coordinates were correct.

Batman swung about. "We don't know. It could be," he snapped, "but Kid Flash, Miss Martian and I searched this valley to no avail as we were waiting. The information we received placed the baggage car near the Dezaiko Viaduct which is another three miles east of here around the bend ahead."

"So why did you give us these coordinates if this isn't the correct place?" Green Arrow asked as he made his way to the cockpit.

Batman laid a hand on his arm. "Miss Martian will be taking the controls for us," he said. "She and Kid Flash will be handling the Javelin while the rest of us continue the search on foot."

"But she doesn't know how to pilot a Jave- . . . Wait. Does she?" Arrow narrowed his eyes as the two teens settled expertly into the pilot and co-pilot seats.

"I had her pull the information pertaining to handling the ship from my mind, bypassing the usual training course," Batman led him back to another seat.

Green Arrow and Black Canary both looked startled by this announcement, and even Superman had to raise an eyebrow. That Batman had let the young telepath anywhere near his mind spoke of desperation on the Dark Knight's part. Concern for the team doubled in Clark's mind.

"The reason I had you meet here," he answered with a hint of exasperation, "is because there is no place to land both ships around the bridge we're heading to. According to the maps, the Dezaiko Viaduct bridges a deep gorge, spanning a class 4 river. The tracks are carved into the steep sides of the mountains here; the other side cuts through a tunnel about a mile further east. There _is_ no place to set down this close to the bridge."

The ship rose smoothly, its jets angling down so that the Javelin could rise straight up. M'gann turned the Javelin in the direction they wanted to go and the ship proceeded to follow the projected path of the tracks. Clark looked out the window and saw the bare spot that the ship had cleared in its landing and takeoff. Brown earth seemed to mar the wintry landscape.

As they pulled away the Bioship wavered a moment and then vanished, the only indication of its presence the dip in the depth of the snow, its propulsion system being much less harsh on its surrounds than that of the Javelin. He could still see it with his infrared vision but it was invisible to anyone else that might stumble upon this clearing.

When the bridge came into view, it was obvious the need for a full-time pilot aboard. The gorge was deep! Superman estimated its depth to be easily one hundred feet from the tracks to the river below it.

Wind had cleared much of the tracks spanning the gorge. Without prompting, Superman used his x-ray vision to scan the area on either side of the gorge. No sign remained here of the baggage car in question.

"Could the railcar have been removed? I see no nothing in the area, not even bits of wreckage," Clark murmured. He switched to infrared. Perhaps the team had found lodging nearby? "I'm looking but I can't see any heat signatures either . . . Wait!"

* * *

Batman was immediately out of his seat and searching the heavily forested landscape outside of Superman's window. Ollie and Dinah moved from their side of the aisle over in order to gaze through one of the other small windows.

"Turn the ship thirty-five degrees to the southeast," Superman instructed.

As M'gann complied it became clear what Superman was seeing. A reasonably clear swath of land sat snugly between the forest and the steep incline below the tracks. There were signs of a small scale avalanche near the base of the bridge where a large pile of snow lay piled along the river and the bridge supports. Had the team set it off in their struggles with Light, or perhaps during their escape? Had the car derailed here and been buried?

"That large mound of snow," Batman pointed out. "Is there any sign of the baggage car beneath it?"

If the team had been buried there . . .

Superman shook his head after a second glance. "No. I see nothing beneath it. What I _am_ seeing are the remains of a fire. It's pale; barely noticeable. I'll go down and check it out," he offered.

Sign of a campfire, still emitting some heat, meant someone had survived until today. Perhaps they had finally given up hope of rescue and decided to try to trek out of here on their own.

"I'll go with you," Batman made his way to the hatch.

"All of us will go with you," Green Arrow corrected as he followed the Bat toward the back of the ship.

M'gann lowered the back of the ship as low as it could go without entangling in the tree line and Kid Flash opened the hatch. The drop might have been daunting, but Batman secured a line and dropped to the ground without a word. Arrow followed as Superman gave Black Canary a lift.

The four adults sank into the snow up to their knees.

"It's freezing out here," Dinah commented as the stiff breeze tugged at her hair. She had changed her costume to one more suited to the environment, but the cold stung her face and lungs. "My God! They've been out in this for three days?"

Superman led the way toward a spot above them. Fresh snow lay on the ground, but it wasn't enough to erase a heavily trampled area. Batman bent to investigate.

"Arrow! Over here," he barked.

Batman held up a small crossbow bolt he had found buried in the snow. "Artemis, I presume."

Ollie took the bolt in his hand. He barely glanced at it. He didn't have to study it; he had made it. It matched the bolts he had designed for the small wrist crossbow made specifically for his youngest protégé.

"It's hers," he confirmed.

"That's good, isn't it?" Dinah laid a hand on his arm. "It means she's alive."

Ollie's mouth twitched up. "At least she was when she used this, but why did she have to? Did the Light agents follow them out or were the kids still trying to track them? In this mess?"

"I don't think it was the Light they were fighting," Batman murmured. He touched a spot of pink in the snow. "The struggle here appears to have been with an animal judging by some of the marks left in the snow."

"Animal?" Black Canary bent to see for herself.

"Wolves are my guess," Batman postulated.

"She was hurt," Dinah said as she noted the color of the snow. She glanced up at Ollie. "Or the wolf was."

Green Arrow shook his head grimly. "This bolt wouldn't have broken the skin. That blood belonged to Artemis."

"Agreed." Batman ignored the glare his colleague sent his way. Oliver was upset and that was to be expected, but Batman wasn't without compassion despite his tight reign over his own emotions. "The good news is that the amount is negligible. It is most likely that the wolf's claws manage to scratch her in the struggle but it doesn't appear to be anything serious."

"Why would wolves come after them?" Canary asked.

"For that, maybe," Batman pointed to the tree line.

Several yards away the remains of a haunch of what looked like venison hung from a tree. The bottom half of it was shredded.

"Roy's alive!" Ollie grinned now. The evidence that both of his protégés' survived eased the tension in the man's shoulders. "It looks like the two of them were looking out for the others."

"I've found the heat signature that I saw from the ship," Clark's voice called down to them. "The shelter is small, though. I can't see where more than two people might have fit in here."

Green Arrow ran ahead and disappeared into what looked like barely a crevice between several boulders. His head popped out a few seconds later.

"I can barely fit my shoulders through the opening, but there is just enough space for one or two people and the remains of a campfire," he announced. He glanced at Superman. "I can't believe you could see that. The coals were cool enough that I could lay my hand in it."

"They had been here until this morning," Batman concluded. He pointed to a line dragged in the snow. It was barely visible after hours of exposure. "They dragged something heavy along with them. I'm thinking it might have been the other haunch of venison."

Ollie stood beside him and studied the mark. "It makes sense. If they didn't know how much longer that they would be out here, Roy, at least, wouldn't willingly give up his food supply, especially in this weather. The wind and snow, light as it is, would still cover tracks and make finding game difficult."

"It might not stop the wolves from following," Superman postulated.

"Not with food left here for them," Ollie shook his head. "But they might track them once the meat here is gone."

"But why would they leave their shelter?" Dinah asked. "Tight though it is, it's better than facing the unknown. Staying put makes more sense than wandering the wilderness."

"The weather prohibited them from leaving for extended periods," Batman explained. "Unfortunately, there are still two members of the team unaccounted for."

He left it at that, but could sense the others exchanging glances behind him. Of the two still missing, Robin was one. Despite the Bat's lack of emotion, or perhaps because of it, his colleagues were well aware of his increasing worry over the welfare of his young partner.

 _His fear_ . . .

He swallowed the emotion as best he could but when next he spoke, if Batman's voice was noticeably gruffer, no one made mention of it.

"You can reenter the Javelin if you like," he told them. "I'm going to follow these tracks."

Superman moved up next to him. "It appears they made their way back to the river."

"That is where the team became separated," he murmured. "It's obvious they're searching for the Robin and Superboy." He touched his comlink. "Miss Martian, we're heading down the hill. Move back to the landing sight and wait for our instructions."

"Will do, Batman," she acknowledged. The Javelin rose up immediately in response.

"Wait! Ask him if they've found . . ." Kid Flash's question was cut off in mid-sentence.

Perhaps he should feel bad, but Wally and M'gann would know what they found as soon as they did.

* * *

Despite the artic reception he was bound to get, Clark set a hand on his shoulder. "He's with Superboy, Bruce. I'm sure his teammate will do everything in his power to keep Dick safe." The words were whispered, meant for Batman's ears alone.

The silence that answered him wasn't unexpected.

Just before taking off down the hill, Batman whispered back. "His name is Conner, Clark, and he's not just Robin's teammate; he's his friend."

* * *

Batman didn't have to look back to see Clark following him with a frustrated look on his face. Bruce had been reminding him regularly of his obligation to the boy. Any real improvements on Conner's part could be directly related to his friendship with his teammates and the extra work that Black Canary did with him.

The boy's disappointment with his mentor's concentrated efforts of avoidance had colored his progress, but thankfully not stopped it. The past few weeks, with Dick's prompting, Bruce had been considering taking a larger role in Superboy's training. Ideally, though, Clark would be so much better and not simply on an emotional level. The boy had trouble controlling his strength almost as much as he had his temper. That there hadn't been more serious accidents during training than a few strains, sprains, and a minor concussion or two was more luck than anything. It was difficult for Conner to understand his teammates' frailty and, as a result, he would either power through his opponents or treat them with kid gloves. No happy medium had quite been achieved the young clone's continued improvements.

It hadn't been merely that the boys shared a similar feature or two that Batman had chosen to team Conner with Dick. He had noted on a number of occasions Superboy's tendency to watch out for the younger boy in the field as well as taking into account Conner's increasing respect for Robin's cool head and calming influence. He had hoped the team-up would benefit both boys - Robin by having a powerhouse at his back, and Conner by having a good role model that would make him more thoughtful and efficient when dealing with opponents that were more brains than brawn.

Right now, however, he was counting on the boys looking out for one another. As far as opponents went, Mother Nature was a lot more unpredictable and far less merciful than the team's usual human ones.

* * *

As they neared the base of the bridge from below, Superman was the first to notice the batarang still attached to the bridge. He flew up to retrieve it and spotted signs of digging beneath the structure nearby.

Green Arrow knelt by the area briefly. "They retrieved something here. Can't tell what it was from this, however." He glanced up above to the tracks. "If they fought with the Light agents on the tracks, maybe whatever merchandise was being transported fell here."

Batman acknowledged his deduction with a grunt.

"Is this good news, then?" Arrow asked as he moved back toward the group. "Certainly they wouldn't be as concerned with the mission if someone's life was on the line. Perhaps they are in contact with one another?"

Clark waited for Batman to comment when Bruce's belt suddenly beeped at him. He met the curious glances of the others as they looked to Batman for an explanation.

"What is it?" Black Canary asked.

"Robin's tracking device," he answered briefly. "Without the mountain blocking it, the signal is finally getting through. He's close," Batman told them as he checked the readout. "Within a couple of miles of here."

Traveling in the knee-high snow was difficult and slow going, however. With an active tracking device, speed was desired.

"I got this," Clark said as his eyes began to glow. Twin red beams shot forth and cleared a path through the snow.

Green Arrow slapped him on the shoulder. "You are a rather convenient guy to have around. Thanks."

Ollie's mood had improved with their discoveries that Roy and Artemis were alive and on the move as recently as that morning. Batman, however, was just as on edge as before if not more. He had Robin's tracking signal, though, and he was anxious to see that his boy was safe and in good health. Neither was guaranteed by a mere blip from the device.

* * *

Batman walked with a quick determined step but as the beeping grew more insistent, his speed picked up. His cape flared out behind him. The ball of ice in his gut hadn't melted in two days and now, this close, it seemed to grow bigger. Almost bad enough that he considered asking Clark to give him a lift.

Before he reached that point, however, the melted path that Superman had cleared for them met up with an already cleared path . . . but not from a man-made tool from the looks of it. The sides of the snow looked similar to the sleek frozen sides of the path they just exited; melted and then refrozen from the wind and single digit temperatures.

"What the hell . . ." Green Arrow marveled at the oddity.

"What could have caused this?" Black Canary asked as they stepped on the new path.

Batman pointed at the destroyed and blackened trees. "Whatever caused that, I suspect."

A groan from Superman had the other three Leaguers spinning in his direction. He looked a little dizzy. Dinah stepped closer in case the big man actually collapsed, although her chances of supporting Clark were slender at best. If he went down, he would likely take the blonde down with him.

"What's wrong?" Batman asked him. Any delay had him grinding his teeth but he couldn't risk ignoring a potential threat.

Clark blew out a breath, and then waved Dinah away. He straightened back up to his full impressive height.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I'm fine. Just felt a little weak for a minute there."

Batman scowled. "That doesn't sound like nothing."

"I'm fine. It wasn't the same as when I'm exposed to green kryptonite. No pain, no nausea, no dizziness."

Green Arrow glanced around them, searching for an enemy. "You looked a little dizzy there for a moment, though. You sure about this?"

"Momentary weakness, that's all. It's gone now," Clark insisted.

Batman pulled out a small instrument and held it out. A second after it was activated, it emitted a loud rapid clicking.

"What's that," Ollie stepped over to glance at the machine.

"Geiger counter," Batman answered.

Ollie's eyebrows shot up. "That's half the size of the one I have back at the Arrowcave. How much does that thing weigh?"

Batman didn't look at him but instead studied the readings. "I'll have WayneTech send over the schematics to Queen Industries later this week."

Oliver nodded, but continued to look over the Dark Knight's shoulder. "Thanks! What do you make of it?"

"Radiation from an unknown source," Batman intoned as he walked to each tree. "Levels are, for the most part, low enough to not damage human tissue but that might not be a guarantee with continuous exposure." As he closed the distance to the destroyed tree that clicking rose in both speed and intensity. "Radiation is much higher here. We shouldn't stay in the area."

As Clark neared the worst of the damage, the weak feeling returned and he leaned more heavily on Black Canary's shoulders.

"Ugh, the feeling is back," he complained.

"Could it be some kind of kryptonite weapon?" Dinah asked as she helped Clark move past the contaminated area.

Batman looked back at his alien friend, noting the physical changes and comparing them to what he knew about kryptonite poisoning.

"I don't think so," he murmured.

"What? How could it not be kryptonite?" Green Arrow waved an arm in Superman's direction. "Look at him!"

"I am looking at him," Batman growled. "Clark, are you experiencing pain or nausea now?"

Clark shook his head as he stood back up under his own power now that they were beyond the damaged tree. "No. No pain . . . no nausea. Just weak. It's better now, but I still feel a little off my game."

"Just as I thought," he nodded, turning off the Geiger counter and returning it to its pocket in his utility belt. "I suspect the trace amount of radiation we found here is from the type emitted by a red sun."

"What?" Ollie gasped. "But how can that be?"

"I agree," Clark stared. "How can that be possible?"

Batman returned the looks of disbelief. "The merchandise. It must be a weapon that has been calibrated to produce radiation similar to what is produced by a red sun."

"They can do that?" Dinah asked.

"I think we just experienced the answer to that," Batman answered. "And this is just the residual radiation Clark is experiencing."

He turned on his heel and moved on in the direction of the device he was tracking, in the direction of his son.

* * *

The others continued after him. This didn't stop the rescue mission. The team still needed to be found and taken home. As Clark moved further away from the more heavily saturated area of radiation he began to feel more normal. He allowed Dinah to move ahead of him as he sought to test Bruce's theory.

He tried to float. He felt his weight lighten off of his feet but his boots refused to completely leave the ground. His eyes widened at the implications. He looked off into the distance but his vision was clear only half the distance he knew it could normally extend. He used his X-ray vision on Green Arrow's back but couldn't make out the man's spine or ribcage. His uniform only blurred a bit.

And this was only the _residual_ radiation he was exposed to?

 _Great Scott_! What would happen if he were actually struck by this weapon? Loss of powers to be sure . . . He had been exposed to red sun radiation on a couple of occasions. He had temporarily lost his powers. The effects hadn't lasted long. Earth's yellow sun had obliterated any lingering effects in short order. The longest it had lasted on one occasion had been overnight. His powers had returned within a half an hour after the sun crested the eastern horizon.

But it was daylight right now . . . The cloud cover was still heavy but that shouldn't prevent him from collecting enough radiation from earth's yellow sun to counter the effects right away.

He frowned. This weapon could be a serious problem for him.

The others had gotten ahead of him in the time his mind had been preoccupied. His strength felt like it was returning to him as he walked, but the path he was on appeared to have been cleared by an extremely low dose. Clark suspected he wouldn't feel back to normal until he left the area completely.

* * *

The soft beeping of Robin's tracking device was increasing rapidly. The boy was here . . . somewhere. Batman searched the area for some glimpse of Robin's signature red and black, a flash of yellow. It should stand out like a beacon in all of this white unless . . . he was hidden in the copse of trees further ahead or buried beneath a heavy blanket of snow. His eyes reluctantly searched the riverbank for some sign of the boy.

His determined pace had steadily increased until he was moving down the path at a jog. His fear for his son was quickly overwhelming his need to maintain his stoic reputation.

" _Robin_ ," he yelled. "Robin, answer me!"

"Oh my God! There! Look," Black Canary called out.

Batman spun in the direction she was pointing, and nearly stumbled as he stopped. It was nearly submerged but what was obviously a portion of the baggage car was just visible where it had slammed up against several boulders. How could he have missed it before this moment?

He checked his tracker and walked toward the riverbank. In just five steps, the tracker went from beeping wildly to a long continuous noise.

He had found Robin.

 _No_ . . .

" ** _Robin!_** " He yanked off his cape as he slid down the embankment only to be halted by a hand on his arm. " ** _Get off me_** ," he snarled.

"Bruce, _stop_! Let _me_ go," Superman pulled the distraught father back onto level ground. "My strength is back. The river would sweep you away if the cold didn't get you first," he told him with infuriating reasoning. "The cold won't bother me. I'll get him out."

Bruce stared at him and tried to answer but the knot in his gut had risen to lodge itself in his throat. He swallowed and looked at the turbulent water, blinking hard.

He nodded, swallowed, and nodded again.

" ** _Go!_** _Get him_ ," he croaked, grabbing Clark's arm. "Get my boy!"

Clark looked over his head. "Watch him."

Bruce pushed at his shoulder. " _Damn it_ , Clark! I'm not going to jump in if you would just _go_!"

He didn't take the time to answer him. Clark moved out into the water. The current was such that it shoved him sideways a step and water rose up several inches higher against his chest as it moved violently around his body. A couple of feet further, Clark then dove beneath the surface of the churning river.

Batman stood on the shore with Arrow and Canary feeling helpless. He _hated_ it! Hated that it had taken him so long to get here but it looked as though even had he been able to get here yesterday, it would have been too late for his boy. This had to have happened at the same time the baggage car had derailed three days ago.

 _Where were his teammates_? _Why hadn't they been looking after him_?

Ollie and Dinah hovered at his shoulders but didn't touch him, didn't speak. It was just as well as Bruce didn't think he had it in him to answer them. His throat felt like it was closing up. Why was it so difficult to catch his breath? His heart was pounding as if it wanted to burst out of his chest.

 _He's_ _ **my**_ _son_ , he wanted to yell to the heavens. _He's_ _ **mine**_! _You can't have him yet . . . Please_ . . .

Instead he waited silently on the bank. Stoically. His emotions buried as deep as he could push them but the wall . . . That wall he had built to contain them was cracking, chipping, crumbling under the weight of his fear, that the one person he had willingly opened his heart to in all of these years was suddenly gone from his life. Like his parents before him, Dick had left him.

 _I'm alone_ . . .

It felt like an hour but he knew that it had been only a few seconds when Superman rose up out of the freezing black waters and floated to the shore. In his hands he held a cloth, torn and saturated; its familiar colors boldly declaring the identity of its owner. But that wasn't what Bruce noticed first . . . Wasn't what he cared about . . .

"Where is he?" He barked the question, desperation hardly concealed.

"There was no sign of him, Bruce," Clark said. "The cape had been caught on a piece of jagged metal from where the explosion had blown out the front of the car. You can see here that the cape has not only been cut, but the collar had also been unhooked. He was _released_ , Bruce! If he hadn't managed it himself, then someone else was able to get to him and pull him free of the river."

Bruce couldn't think for a moment . . . His brain was as frozen as the landscape. It took several more seconds before Clark's words broke through.

"The river," he choked. "Could the river have swept him away before he got to shore?"

He turned and looked around him for some clue to his son's whereabouts. He saw it at the same time Dinah pointed it out to him. A path . . . Not melted away by weaponized radiation, but cleared by hand.

Someone had been here. Could they have found Robin? Was it a friend or the Light's agents hunting down the team?

His jaw firmed and he stepped forward; his plan, to follow it to its conclusion and find his son . . . Or beat the answer to his whereabouts from whomever he discovered there.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Another mentors' chapter down, how many to go?**

 **This is all happening during the same day as the mentors catch up to the team. I'm not promising how many chapters are left, the action and our cast of characters will have the final say in it, but we're getting close!**

 **You know, I have this thing about beings with god-like powers who aren't God . . . Superman should have to breathe. I decided that he needs oxygen, too. He has larger lungs and a greater capacity for holding his breath than normal humans. Also, his super-lungs should be able to withstand the differences in pressure and high speeds enough that neither would actually rip the air from him in either situation. Although I am still working on the science behind his ability to fly, I'm not going to worry overmuch about it in this story.**

 **Looking forward to hearing your opinions and reactions to this chapter . . .**


	28. In His Place

**Sorry for the delay. My brain had turned to mush and I needed a change of pace. As a result, another 1-shot has been added to the YDG series called, "The Legacy" - Summary goes like this: "Amazed by his ward's talents, Bruce starts looking toward the future. But it's not the Wayne legacy he's thinking of, it's Batman's." Let me know what you think!**

 **Warning: Language and Peril . . .**

* * *

Artemis wrung out the cloth for the thousandth time. She was working on autopilot: dip the cloth, wring it out, wipe Conner down, dip the cloth again but . . . _nothing_ was helping. Nothing she did made any difference to his fever.

Conner never completely regained consciousness after that one time. He opened his eyes a few times but he never was able to ' _see_ ' her again. He didn't acknowledge her voice; he never spoke coherently after saying his . . . goodbyes.

Her breath caught in her throat and she fought off helpless tears. It was a losing battle, however, just as Conner was losing his. His temperature raged now over one hundred and seven and, incredibly, it still continued to climb. The cold cloth would immediately absorb the heat from his body with the first swipe and need to be refreshed again.

It was the same this time as well, she noted . . . except . . . Frowning, she dumped the cloth in the bucket and brought her hand to his face.

"Are you okay?" she whispered to him.

It was a stupid question but she asked it anyway. Something was different. Of course, he didn't answer her. She didn't expect him to, but . . . Scowling now, she patted his cheek.

"Conner?"

Something was wrong. She couldn't say just what it was exactly but it suddenly felt less crowded in the shack, like she and Ramón were the only ones here. It was then that she noticed he wasn't breathing.

" _Oh noooo_! No, no, no, no, no," she moaned, sliding her hand down over his silent chest, searching for the heartbeat she already knew wouldn't be there. "Conner? _Conner_?! Oh God, he's not breathing! I can't feel his heart beating! _Help me!_ " she cried out.

Ramón was across the shack in two steps, shoving the table out of his way in his haste to reach her.

"Easy, missy," he rumbled, his voice surprisingly calm in comparison to his swift movements. "Let's get him on the floor."

Artemis moved the bucket out of the way as Ramón pulled Conner bodily from the cot onto the hard wooden planks. She dropped to her knees by Conner's head as Ramón moved his hands into position and started CPR. He pressed against the boy's chest with a grunt of effort. His eyes widened in some shock at the difficulty he was having. Ramón was literally throwing his body weight into each compression but was having trouble pushing to the necessary depth needed to force the heart to pump the blood through the boy's body.

"What. The. Hell?" he grunted out with each compression. "This isn't working," he declared. He made a double-handed fist and slammed it down onto the youth's chest in hopes that that would do the job.

"Breathe," he ordered Artemis.

She had already tilted his head back into position and, at Ramón's command, blew hard into Conner's mouth. His chest barely moved and she was left feeling dizzy. Taking another deep breath she blew a second time, harder, and abruptly sat back on her heels gasping.

"I c-can't do it," Artemis panted, despairing. "It's too hard. He's going to die!"

* * *

Batman's hands searched automatically for the tracking device hidden in the hem of the cape, his fingers expertly finding the tiny piece of technology without thought.

Black Canary was touched his shoulder hesitantly. "Someone got to him, Bruce. Someone must have pulled him out of the river."

But whether or not Robin had been alive when that happened . . . It was the question in all of their minds.

"I bet Superboy must have saved him," Green Arrow told him. "They have to be close by."

Superman alternated between staring at the destroyed railcar where it sat lodged in the river and at his friend. That Batman was allowing the comfort at all spoke volumes of his current state of mind. But Clark knew him well enough to know he was fluctuating between grief and a cautious kind of hopefulness. He listened to the furious pounding of Bruce's heart as his friend struggled to regain his composure.

 _How horrible it must be to believe that your son is dead_ . . . Unwilling, Clark's thoughts turned to Superboy . . . to Conner. What had _he_ done to prevent this? Had he been the one to pull Robin from the wreckage? Part of him wondered if maybe the clone had somehow contributed to the car's derailment. What did he _really_ know of the boy and what he was capable of? Bruce had been on his case constantly about taking the clone under his wing and teaching him, but what did he need from Clark that Bruce and Dinah couldn't provide?

The broken railcar made a horrible screeching sound as it shifted in the water, but it remained firmly in place. It was well and truly wedged in where it sat. He should probably remove it from the river. _After_ , he decided . . . After they found the team safe and sound and took them home. He would come back and fly whatever was left of the wreckage back to Prince Rupert. Likely there was nothing left to salvage but at least people would know the fate of the railcar.

A whiff of something drew his notice then. Smoke? Wood burning nearby. But then the discovery was overlaid by sound. A name . . . The name Batman had given to him earlier for Superboy . . . Conner.

" _Conner_? _Conner_?! _Oh God_! _He's not breathing_! _I can't feel his heartbeat_! _Help me_!"

The voice belonged to Artemis. If she was talking to Superboy then that meant the team was nearby. _Dear God, who's not breathing? Is she talking about Robin_? _Roy_? Whatever had happened, it was obvious she needed help.

"I hear them! This way. Hurry," he shouted to the others and immediately flew down the path they had only just discovered.

Part of him heard the footsteps of his fellow leaguers in the snow as they ran after him but his attention was on the panicked voice of the girl, Artemis, and the low rumble of whomever was with her. The second voice he didn't recognize; he only knew that it belonged to a man.

As Superman crested the rise, his eyes were drawn to a small shack, the source of the wood smoke. His X-ray vision confirmed it was also the source of the voices. He saw Artemis and a huge man huddled over another. The man pounded the body of the person on the floor.

 _Great Scott_! _What is he doing_? _Someone that large could crush the sternum of a child the size of Robin_.

Anger rose and he slammed into the door with perhaps a little more force than was necessary. The door burst open in a spray of broken wood and splinters. He shoved the table, sending it skittering into the cabinet like a toy, the stool nearby went tumbling. Superman then grabbed the hulking male by the back of his neck, lifting him high into the air.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded of the startled man.

* * *

Clark held the large backwoodsman up by the back of his scruffy neck and shook him like a rag doll. They were out here at least fifty miles from the nearest town. Who knew what a man like this, alone out in the wilderness, was capable of? Had he just killed one of the children? He scowled into the startled bearded face, furious.

"Superman! No!"

Artemis' voice barely penetrated past his anger as she scrambled over to grab his arm. She yanked with all of her might but her weight didn't even register now that his earlier weakness was all but gone.

" _Stop_! What are you doing?" she cried out. "Let him go. He's trying to save Conner's life!"

Superman blinked down at her, confused, as she continued to tug uselessly at his forearm.

"What?" His gaze swept over the figure on the floor in surprise.

He stared at the body in shock. It had been several months since he had last laid eyes on the clone but the pitiful figure on the floor near his feet was practically unrecognizable as the powerful boy he had only met twice before. _How could this have happened_?

"Conner?" It didn't seem possible.

At that moment, the black figure of Batman swept into the room, Green Arrow and Black Canary hot on his heels. There was hardly room left to move in that small shack but relief poured over Artemis' face and she let go of Superman's arm to rush Ollie and Dinah.

"Robin?" Batman asked as he rushed forward.

"No! It-It's Superboy," Clark stammered, looking back at the other man helplessly.

Ollie and Dinah wrapped Artemis in their arms even as she cried out. "Conner's dying! _Please_ , somebody help him!"

If Batman was as stunned as Clark, it wasn't in evidence as the cowled man dropped to his knees beside the unmoving boy. He paused only to feel for a pulse before beginning compressions. Like the man had before him, Batman grunted with the effort it took to compress the boy's chest to the proper depth. Superman's fingers finally went slack and the crusty old brute returned to Conner's head to assist in resuscitating him.

"What the hell is going on here?" Ollie demanded finally, letting go of Artemis as Dinah pulled the distraught girl to her. "Where's Red Arrow and Robin?"

It was obvious that there was no place for either of the two boys to hide in the shack.

"Robin had already left to retrieve medicine for Conner by the time Roy and I got here," Artemis explained as she brushed futilely at her streaming face. "Roy went after him while I stayed with Conner. B-But I couldn't help him! I tried and tried but nothing was working.

"It was Sportsmaster and Cheshire," she continued. "They were transporting a scientist and this-this thing to one of the Light's hidden laboratories. The scientist shot Conner with it and now he's dying!"

Ollie walked over to where she pointed and picked up the laser rifle. "This thing? It caused this?"

She nodded. "It produces the same kind of radiation as a red sun. It stripped Conner of his powers and . . . and we think maybe his immune system. He received a wound and now it is infected."

Ollie stepped outside with the weapon and flung it into the distance. "We can retrieve it later," he said. "Don't want to take a chance this thing is leaking radiation."

Batman's voice caught their attention.

"Superman," he grunted, "the density of his body is preventing me from performing CPR effectively. You're going to have to take over."

"B-But this shouldn't be possible," Superman jerked as if coming out of a daze, his mind reeling. "He's a Kryptonian! He shouldn't be dying."

The woodsman glanced up at him as he moved back to lean against the wall, dizzy from the effort of trying to breathe for the young clone. "Hell no, he shouldn't be, but he is. Now if you can do something to help him, you best get to it."

"He's _dying_ , Clark!" Bruce hissed at him quietly under his breath. "Unless you get off of your ass and help, this boy is going to _die_!"

Despite the ringing in his own ears, Clark heard the whispered commands and obeyed. He kneeled down even as Batman moved out of his way.

* * *

Artemis felt like a child but she was so scared, so desperate, for someone to take over this responsibility. It was too much and the burden was too heavy for her. She didn't want to do this anymore but she also didn't want to watch as one of her friends died. She pulled away from Black Canary and moved over to kneel on the floor near Ramón as she watched Batman and Superman work over Conner.

Despite spending hours bathing him with cold water, she hadn't really looked at Conner with a critical eye. She had acknowledged that he had looked sick but now . . . His eyes appeared sunken and dark, his skin was deathly pale. But then, he'd just _died_ , hadn't he? There was a place along his right side that she had noticed before, a reddish mark over his ribs.

Initially, Artemis had assumed it was a bruise gotten during the fight on the baggage car or maybe during his attempt at saving Robin from the river, but now she was curious to know if that was where he had been struck by the weapon. She got up and moved nearer to Batman's side, careful not to get in his way. As she looked closer, Artemis wondered how she could have ever confused it with a bruise. It looked more like a sunburn after several days.

Superman leaned back suddenly. "There! I can hear it. His heart is beating! He's breathing on his own."

Batman slumped back against the cot, obviously as lightheaded as Ramón had been after doing rescue breaths.

Artemis kneeled down and rested her hand on the mark. With no cold wet cloth between her hand and Conner's skin, she felt it. Heat . . . A lot of heat! Uncomfortably warm in fact and she drew her hand back sharply. It was as easily as hot as the wound on his leg.

"This . . ." she said. Her voice was rough after all those days in the cold. "I think this is where the laser struck him. It's really hot." She glanced over at Ramón. "Did you notice this, too?"

Ramón's attention was pulled from where he had been staring at the parade of characters that had invaded his poor shack. He stood up, looking as haggard as she felt, and walked around to see what she was talking about.

He grunted. "Saw that the first night, but was too busy to pay it no mind. My attention was on trying to keep the two of them boys from perishing in the night, and the wound on this one's leg had me far more worried than that mark. Are you saying that this might be what's killing him and not the infection?"

Artemis' eyes widened when every gaze turned to her. She was no expert. "I-I don't know, but there is something going on here. This mark is producing a lot of heat."

Although her gaze flew to Superman's reaction, she turned to Batman. The whole team knew how Superman felt about Conner. She was, frankly, surprised that he offered to help. Surely his life would be easier if Conner just went away . . . She swallowed back her anger at the Man of Steel and looked to Batman. He, Black Canary, and Red Tornado were the ones the team most trusted, the ones who were always there for them.

"What happened on the train?" Batman asked her. "Talk . . . How did this happen?"

"Sportsmaster and Cheshire were the Lights agents," she told them. She didn't think anyone noticed the slight hesitation when she spoke of the agents. They had been her own family! "They were escorting this scientist to Prince Rupert for pickup and taking him elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" Batman asked.

"We don't know. They never said. Robin had bugged their room and discovered that some kind of prototype weapon was stored in the second baggage car. He sent us to retrieve it but before we could locate it Sportsmaster and Cheshire arrived with the scientist in tow. There was a fight. The scientist, I think his name was Overton, he got to the laser rifle before us. Robin tried to warn us, but Conner was already grabbing the rifle away from the man when it went off. Overton shot him point blank." She closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Nothing seemed to happen immediately, though. I mean, Conner had only stumbled back a little and asked Overton what he did to him. Conner didn't seem to be hurt, so I-I kind of thought that maybe it hadn't worked and the weapon was a dud. I was in the middle of my own fight so I didn't give it another thought. Cheshire threw an explosive at that point that blew up the front of the baggage car and derailed us."

Dinah had moved next to her while she had been talking and now placed her hand on her shoulder in support. "Go on. How did you all survive the fall into the river?"

Artemis shook her head. "The car didn't fall off of the bridge at first. It only fell over both sets of tracks as it slid out onto the bridge," she explained. "Another train coming in the opposite direction pushed the car off the bridge. But that was later. At that time, everyone was just trying to dig themselves out from under all the trunks and crates. Sportsmaster and Cheshire escaped through a hole he made in the side of the car and took the scientist and the rifle with them."

"You mean the rifle I just tossed outside of the door?" Ollie asked, thumbing the direction his had thrown it in.

"I managed to get the rifle from them, but it fell from the bridge. Roy . . . Red Arrow and I only retrieved it this morning." Artemis hunched her shoulders and sat down heavily on the side of the cot. "Anyway, it was then that we discovered that Superboy was pinned under a heavy crate and it was crushing him. That was when we first realized that he was in real trouble, that the laser had done something to him . . . something bad." When she looked back up, the tears had returned and were sliding unnoticed down her cheeks. "He said he couldn't breathe, and then I-I found blood."

"Blood!" Superman narrowed his eyes. "Whose blood? The clone's?"

"Superman," Batman growled in warning. There was a civilian in the room with them.

Artemis jumped to her feet and yelled at him. "Stop calling him that! He's more than just a damned clone! He's a person, just like me, you, any of us!"

"Artemis," Dinah warned.

Artemis shrugged Dinah's hand from her shoulder, and stepped around where Conner still lay; where he still struggled to live. As usual, the man who should have cared for him more than any of them, paid more attention to her than to the one who shared his DNA.

All of them, everyone on the team wanted nothing more than to give Big Blue a piece of their mind for the way he treated Conner, and Artemis was going to be the one to do it. She knew from Robin that Batman had tried to talk sense into the man but it obviously hadn't worked.

" _Damn you_ ," she screamed at him. "Don't you realize what all he's done? How hard he's had to work? How far he's come just to impress _you_?!" Artemis shoved at Superman's chest but, of course, it had no effect. He just stood there, gaping at her. "Don't you realize? He had no powers when he jumped into the river to save Robin's life but he did it anyway!

"Ask _him_!" She pointed at Ramón who sat against the wall still, watching the drama with a neutral expression. "He told me how he had found Conner. He was clinging to a branch in the river with Robin draped over his shoulder. How Conner had begged him to save Robin . . . Not himself, just Robin!"

She was opening weeping now and ran an arm across her eyes angrily. "Who does that? _Who_?! Real heroes, that's who! And you treat him like some kind of pariah!"

Dinah put her arm around her in hopes of calming her down. "Artemis, come sit down. We understand what all you must have gone through and you're overwrought. She doesn't mean it, Superman."

Artemis pushed Canary aside and stepped back. "Don't tell me what I mean and don't mean. You _know_! You've seen what his attitudes have done to Conner. You've seen his hurt. You've seen his continuous disappointment over Superman's abandonment just like the rest of us," she yelled, pointing at Superman.

"I _didn't_ abandon him," Superman spoke up for the first time in his own defense. "I left him in good hands; capable hands. I knew he was being taken care of."

Artemis spun around, glaring. "That wasn't _our_ responsibility! It was _yours_! He's our friend so of course we were going to watch out for him. What else could we do but to take up the slack when you so obviously didn't give a damn?"

"That's enough, Artemis," Batman stood up. "We don't air our dirty laundry in front of strangers."

"He's not a stranger," she snapped. She was on a roll and no longer cared what anyone thought anymore. If she was off the team after this, then so be it. "His name is Ramón and he saved Robin and Conner's lives. They would have died three days ago if it hadn't been for this man."

Artemis let out an angry groan of frustration and kneeled down next to Conner. She laid a hand across his forehead. His fever was back! _Damn it_! Why couldn't he get a break? She looked at the window and the shifting light. It would be getting dark soon. Where was Roy? Why hadn't he returned with Robin yet?

She thought when the League arrived that they would all be saved but now she wondered if any of them would walk away from this mission intact. When she spoke again, her voice was gruff and her throat hurt but she was calm again.

"He asked me to tell you something, Superman," Artemis murmured. "I don't think you deserve to hear it but I promised him."

She didn't have to look to know he was listening. She had the attention of everyone in the room.

"Conner said . . . 'Tell Superman that I only wanted to be like him,'" she told him. "Those were his last words to me." She stroked his forehead again, pushing back his wet hair. "For some reason, he looked up to you. Even after you rejected him, he wanted nothing more than to make you proud."

Superman kneeled down beside her. "I-I didn't know."

She snorted. "You didn't want to," she corrected him. "But you know what? That's okay because _we_ were proud of him. His _friends_. He's not a clone to _us,_ you know. He's a good person who tries his best to always make the right decision no matter what. And we respect that about him."

"He sounds very lucky to have friends like you," Superman told her.

"He's not going to have anything soon," she said sadly, "because his heart is going to give out again. HIs fever is still raging."

Superman frowned. "Being cooped up in this dark shack couldn't have helped. I've been exposed to a weapon similar to this. Sunlight can reverse it." He leaned over to lay his hand over the reddened spot she had spoken of.

Artemis bit her lip and found herself wondering hopefully, _is he going to finally act like Conner's father at last_?

Ramón climbed to his feet and went to pick up his overturned stool. "We moved him closer to the window but as you can see we don't get direct sunlight through here, even had the sun been out. It's been too cold to take him out, especially with how weak he's been."

"No one blames you . . ." Batman hesitated. "Ramón, is it?"

The grizzled man stroked his beard and nodded. "Ramón Dupree. I'm a wildlife biologist. I've been living in these parts for twenty-five years studying the local wolf pack. Pure luck that I found your boys that night."

"We thank you for doing what you did for them," Black Canary told him.

Ramón grunted. "The young'un told me how you all saved the earth from aliens."

"That's true. The original seven members of the League." Green Arrow said. "We even have a few aliens on our side."

"I suppose I have some thanking to do myself then for saving the earth and the like . . . from aliens, no less," he snorted. "Never thought I'd be saying something like _that_. And here I thought it was the boy's concussion that had him dreaming crazy things."

Batman stepped forward. "The young one you keep talking about . . ."

"Robin? He's your boy, isn't he? He said he worked with a bat. Who'd have guessed the boy meant that literally," the woodsman barked a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Yes, he was alive and kicking as of this morning," Ramón admitted. "He's sick and weak still but was bound and determined to find my cabin and bring back the last of my antibiotics and other medical supplies. We didn't know when a rescue was coming, you understand, he was worried about his brother . . . er, this one, I mean. Then that older boy, the red-haired youngster . . ."

"Red Arrow," Batman corrected.

"Roy," Artemis snapped, ignoring the glare sent her way. She figured she would be sent home as soon as they were back with good riddance after this.

"Right, well, he went after Robin hours ago. A couple of you might want to head on out after them," he told them. "After that avalanche the young'un set off earlier, there no telling what them two's got up to. There are predators up in these mountains, you understand."

Green Arrow's eyebrows rose in surprise. "An avalanche!"

Artemis nodded. "Roy and I saw Robin scaling the cliff in the distance when we stumbled onto this place. We think that he must have set it off on purpose for some reason. We heard a loud bang in the distance, like one of his exploding batarangs might make." She shrugged her shoulder. "That's what it sounded like anyway. He was too far away to be able to do much more than identify him as a human shape moving up there but there was no one else it could have been."

Black Canary blinked. "Why would he do something so dangerous?"

Ramón answered that question. "I suspect he was trying to shave off some time it takes to get to the cabin from here. Damn fool stunt . . . I might have sat on him to keep him here had I any notion he'd get up to that kind of tomfoolery. I'm thinking he's been fighting off pneumonia and the lingering effects of a concussion as it is."

"I'll contact Miss Martian," Batman said. "We need to get Superboy into the medical bay on the ship."

"Already done," Green Arrow smirked. "Right after we got here."

Almost on cue, the sound of engines could be heard rattling the door and the shack's one window.

"M'gann is here?" Artemis asked hopefully as she climbed to her feet.

"And Kid Flash," Dinah told her with a gentle smile.

" _Really_?" Artemis could hardly believe that.

"He insisted," Dinah said. "I hear he was very worried about you."

She nodded. "Robin's his best friend and Roy, too," she smiled. "Makes sense he'd want to come." Despite the antagonism that ran between them, Artemis found herself actually excited to see the annoying speedster for once.

* * *

Superman took his cape off and began wrapping Superboy in it. "Go get Robin and Red Arrow," he told them, sliding his arms under Superboy's body. "I'll take care of Su . . . of _Conner_."

"Where are you taking him?" Ollie asked. "The kid needs . . . "

"Sunlight," Superman interrupted. "If he's at all like me, based on what Artemis told us, he's going to need sunlight more than anything we have stocked on the Javelin."

Batman followed him out. In the fading light, the Javelin could be seen landing in the clearing between the shack and the river. Dusk was already upon them and two of the team were still missing. The temperature had dropped noticeably in the time that they had been in the shack.

"Clark," he grabbed the Kryptonian's shoulder.

Clark turned to face him, guilt and regret simmering in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I should have listened to you sooner. This is . . ."

"Not your fault, Clark," Bruce told him. "But what Artemis said in there . . .?"

"Was right," Clark stopped him. "Artemis put me in my place back there and she was right to do it. You tried to tell me yourself several times. I want you to know that I get it - now."

"That wasn't what I was going to say but yes, she was right," Bruce agreed. He watched Clark wince at the admission despite have just said the same thing himself. "You needed to hear it. I'm just sorry it had to take a near tragedy to get through to you. Just know that _this_ . . . what happened to Superboy," he indicated the dying boy tucked close to Clark's chest, "was the fault of the Light and no one else."

Clark nodded gratefully before abruptly looking down at the boy bundled in his arms. "I've got to go. Conner's heartrate has just picked up and his breathing's increased. He's in distress again. We'll meet you at the Watchtower as soon as we can."

"Good luck," Batman called as Superman began lifting off of the ground.

"You, too, Bruce. Go save your boy. He and Roy are going to need help getting down that cliff." With that, Superman took off in a streak of color and was gone between one breath and the next.

* * *

"Batman!" The back of the Javelin opened up and Kid Flash stood in the opening, a shadow figure with the light from the interior illuminating him from behind. "Did you find them?"

The door opened behind them and Canary and Artemis walked out, followed by Green Arrow and finally Ramón Dupree, wildlife biologist. Unable to stand by for another minute, Kid Flash dashed over top of the snow until he was in front of Artemis.

"You're alive," he exclaimed as he threw his arms around her. "Oh my God, we've been so worried! Are you alright?" He paused to wipe her damp face with a gloved finger, concerned at her upset. "What's happened?"

He looked around at the solemn faces and then seemed to realize that no one else was coming out of the shack behind them. "Where are the others? Don't tell me you're the only one to survive! We didn't get here in time? What . . .?"

Artemis had pulled on her gloves and now place one over his mouth. "If you'd be quiet long enough . . . Robin and Roy are somewhere on the mountain hiking in this. We're going after them as soon as we can pile into the ship."

He blinked. "Oh, right . . . Wait! Where's Superboy? You didn't mention him. Where is he?"

"Superman took Superboy with him," Batman answered for her. "No more talking. We have to go _now_. Robin and Red Arrow will be needing help and we don't know what kind of shape they're going to be in when we find them. I want to get there before they attempt to climb down."

"Right," Wally nodded, reassured. "I got this!"

With that, Kid Flash swept Artemis off of her feet before she could protest and ran her back into the Javelin. He didn't' sit her down until they were in the medical bay aboard the ship. He sat her down on the exam table.

"Wait here, Artie. I'll be right back," he blurted and was gone before she could speak again.

By the time he had returned to the entrance, M'gann was there and transporting everyone left over the snow two at a time and onto the ship, including one very large bear of a man. The fellow was laughing about something.

"So, the young'un wasn't delirious, after all," the grizzled man was saying. "I'd have plum never believe such a wild tale." He looked at M'gann with interest. "That's a might handy gift you got there, missy!"

Batman waved toward the interior. "If you'll have a seat, Dr. Dupree, we can be on our way."

"You bet," Dupree agreed easily. "Already banked the fire. Whatever's left can wait until spring. And call me Ramón; the kids all did." He moved in the direction Batman indicated.

Black Canary moved off toward the medical bay and Artemis, her intent to check the girl over and make room for the remaining two team members was clear. Batman and Green Arrow followed Dupree as Wally shut the loading bay door in preparation of takeoff.

The team was alive . . . Wally would worry about what shape they were all in once they found them. Right now, however, he felt like he could breathe again for the first time in days.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Will sunlight be enough? We don't know yet . . . But now we've finally caught up to the action on the cliff, what will happen to Robin and Roy?**

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	29. No More Regrets

**I decided to give everyone their own chapter. Trust me, it works out better this way.**

 **Warning: Language . . . You might want some tissues. ;D**

* * *

It was quiet on top of the bluff . . . not silent, however. The wind was picking up and it sent a whistling moan through the neighboring trees. The growling wheeze of a tranquilized mountain lion could be heard nearby. The worried chittering of a lonely fox . . .

Roy could hear all of it over the relentless pounding of his own heartbeat. The drumming sounded fast and he thought that wasn't good. It was hard to think straight over the cacophony all around him, but he thought that a fast thready heartbeat was a bad thing.

The snow around him was mushy as the heat from his blood melted it and the falling temperature strove to refreeze it beneath him. _Was this it_? Was he going to bleed out up here on this lonely precipice? It had gotten too dark to see crap now so his last sight wasn't even going to be a great view, damn it . . . He couldn't even tell if his vision was tunneling or not, or if he was feeling colder than he should be. Only his fatigue bespoke of the shock he knew he was falling into.

 _Robin_ . . .

 _Where was Robin_? He tried to push back the fuzziness that was enveloping his brain. He could only remember that Rob had needed him.

Roy tried lifting his head to look for his little bro. It felt like the equivalent of bench pressing a truck. The vague outline of the tree branch the boy had been dangling from reminded Roy of the danger that Robin had been in. But he couldn't locate the telltale darker outline against the night sky that should have been there . . .

Why?

Roy blinked rapidly as he struggle to make sense of what his muddied mind was telling him, that Robin was no longer there. But that would mean . . . What? Had he saved himself? Rob had been struck by the cougar, the same as Roy had, and he had been coughing because he was _sick_ , like with pneumonia kind of sick! No way could Rob have climbed back up to the relative safety of the tree branches, not being sick and injured as he was . . . and that could only mean . . .

" _Ro-o-ob_ ," he screamed. What came out was something hoarse and breathy, and the wind whipped it away. "Robin!"

Roy strained his ears to listen. But he could only hear a humming sound . . . No, not humming. What was that? It was growing louder, sounding more like a rumbling noise . . . or a roaring like . . . like an engine? He hearing things now?

Suddenly a light rose up from the cliff's edge. It was coming from his left and was growing brighter as the noise increased in pitch and volume. And then it was there: a Javelin! One of the League's ships was hovering in the air just beyond the edge of the cliff. As he watched, it moved over the open ground to land behind him. The League had finally deigned to show up and save their collective asses.

But they couldn't rescue him yet, Roy thought. He hadn't saved Rob yet! He had to save Robin first! Rob was depending on him . . .

With some effort, Roy struggled to push himself up. The pain in his arms had peaked and gone a bit numb as a result. He knew he hurt, but it had become like background noise, nothing he couldn't work through . . . If he could just find the strength to move.

At least now, with the light from the ship illuminating the area, Roy could tell with a hell of a lot more clarity exactly how shocky he was. His vision had a red rim around everything as it seemed to shrink and condense with each breath.

It wasn't hard to figure out that he was dying.

* * *

The ship flew slowly just a few feet above the ground in the direction of the cliff. Too slowly.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Green Arrow barked as he leaned in between the pilot and co-pilot's seats. "We're losing the light!"

"Easy, Arrow," Batman growled to his right. He was also standing behind the pilot's seat; the leather creaked under the pressure of his hands on the seat back.

Ollie did his best to not snap the other man's head off. Batman, too, had someone he cared about on that mountain. What had that biologist fellow said? That Robin had gone after the meds Conner had needed although he, too, was sick and likely still concussed . . .

He wanted to strangle the man for letting the boy go. If he could have kept Robin in the shack, Roy wouldn't have been forced to follow him. Even now, they could all have been together and safely on their way back to the Watchtower to be checked out by Martian Manhunter and possibly Dr. Mid-Nite. God, he hoped that none of the kids were so bad off that Mid-Nite's skills would be necessary.

His mind flitted briefly to the image of Superboy as he had lain on the hard planks of the shack. His nose had twitched at the smell of putrid infection and death. It seemed impossible that of all the members of the team, that it was Conner that had succumbed, albeit briefly, to his injuries. He was Superman's clone, for God's sake! Of all of them, he should have been safe!

And that he hadn't been had scared Ollie far more than anything else this day had brought. If the strongest member of the team could fall like this, what hope did they have for the others? Artemis, Roy, Robin . . . They were all human, all of them far more susceptible to injury and death than a damned Kryptonian . . . Far more likely to . . . to . . .

And Roy had left for this mission with the team with harsh words still hanging in the air between them. Ollie couldn't stand to leave it like that. He had never adopted Roy like Bruce had Dick, but in his heart Ollie couldn't have loved the boy more if he had been his own flesh and blood!

Instead of criticizing or arguing with the boy . . . No, Ollie corrected himself, Roy is a man now . . . he should have just told him that. He should have just thrown his arms around that angry son of a bitch and told him he loved him. The look that Roy would have given him had Ollie done that surprised a snort of amusement out of him.

He ignored the startled glance from Wally and the cautious one from the Batman beside him. Those lenses hid Bruce's eyes, so that was only a guess on Ollie's part, however. He kept his own eyes forward and his mouth shut. He didn't feel any more like sharing his feelings that Batman would. He swallowed around the lump of fear in his throat.

A small mountain of snow and rocks and whole trees lay directly in front of them and behind it, illuminated by the powerful lights of the spacecraft, a wall of granite rose. M'gann adjusted the controls and the ship began to rise slowly, the cracks and crevices sliding past them as they ascended.

"I don't want to take the chance of our missing them if they are descending," M'gann told them.

"Descending?" Ramón asked, startled. "Certainly those boys wouldn't try something as crazy as repelling down a cliff at night?"

Wally sighed heavily. "You haven't known them long enough or you wouldn't be asking that."

Ramón grunted. "Folks running around wearing capes and masks teaching their children to jump off of cliffs . . ." he mumbled under his breath. "What's the world coming to these days?"

"Look there!" Ollie pointed. An arrow, barely visible, stuck out of the side of the cliff. "That's one of his grapple arrows." He straightened and blinked. "How high up are we, anyway?"

Wally answered that one. "About four hundred feet."

Ollie frowned. "What the hell? He only has about two hundred feet of cable . . ."

"If he was following Robin, then they are probably doing this in stages," Batman rumbled. "Robin only carries two hundred feet of monofilament cable in his grapple gun as well."

Ollie shook his head. "Our arrows don't work the same way as your grapple gun. They are generally good for one use until we can reset the grapple in the arrow. I usually only carry two with me, sometimes three if I suspect I'll have to do extra high work. But, even so, resetting the grapple hook in the field in Star City is a hell of a lot different than clinging to the side of a cliff face."

"There's no line attached to the arrow," Batman pointed out. "I suspect he doubled up on his line if he had two grapple arrows in his quiver like you. He removed the line from this arrow to use on his next."

"But a four hundred foot shot is impossible . . . unless . . ." Ollie stroked his goatee in thought. "I didn't think to look, but if he cannibalized his rocket arrows, he might have gotten the boost he needed for a shot like that." Ollie grinned. "Smart thinking, kid," he murmured quietly.

"That is impressive work, on the fly like that," Batman complimented.

M'gann spoke up. "How would he have shot his second arrow from where he was perched, though? I don't see how he could have done that without falling."

Ollie's grin fell away. "He couldn't have. Even Artemis would have had a difficult time making that shot using her one-handed mini-crossbow."

"I have a feeling we don't want to know how he did it, do we?" Wally pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. His leg was vibrating with the need to run.

"Probably not," Ollie admitted but told them anyway. It was a gutsy move and pride in his former protégé was nearly as great as his fear for him. "He would have had to throw himself off of the ledge backward to get the shot he needed."

"Oh my God, I'm going to kill him . . ." Kid Flash muttered, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands. "They'd better be okay because I'm going to kill them both."

"Arrow."

Batman pointed out the second arrow jutting out of the cliff as they neared the precipice. Here they could clearly see the cable retractor was still attached to the second arrow. The ship continued up clearing the edge of the cliff and its lights lit up the broad expanse of snow brilliantly.

White snow with a large swath of red marring its pristine surface.

Ollie mouth dropped open at the grisly scene. "Dear God! Are we too late?"

"Where are they?" Batman growled and the leather creaked as his hands tightened involuntarily.

"M'gann, can you hear them?" Wally asked as he leaned forward in his seat.

Their eyes were all following the path of the blood as it led them dangerously close back to the cliff's edge.

"I think . . . I'm getting some confusing thoughts," M'gann said as she maneuvered the ship around to land and bringing the lights to bear on the rest of the clearing.

"Thoughts are good, confusing or not," Wally blurted. "Thoughts mean someone's alive and conscious."

Ollie blinked. "What is that?" A red net was splayed over the snow and something big and dark was beneath it.

"That," said Ramón, "is a mountain lion. Now we know where the blood came from."

"It's Red Arrow," M'gann called out abruptly. "I can hear him. He keeps repeating the same thought over and over now. He has to save Robin . . ."

"Get us down now, M'gann. Open the hatch," Batman barked as he spun away.

Ollie and the others raced to follow.

* * *

He was dying.

The only good that came with that realization was the newest rush of adrenaline to his system. Roy pushed up onto his hands and knees. His limbs were shaking like crazy but he still managed to put one hand in front of the other. Worse than climbing up that damned cliff, he discovered, just to crawl a lousy foot and Roy decided then and there that, if and when he got out of this, he was going to strangle a certain little bird for putting him through one of the worst experiences of his life.

The rush of blood in his ears prevented him from hearing the approach of his rescuers, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when a blanket was suddenly thrown over him. Someone turned him over gently and it annoyed him because he had worked so hard to push himself up. How was he going to save Robin now?

"No, stop," he panted.

He needed a drink. His throat felt parched, his body dehydrated. He couldn't catch his breath! Why couldn't he catch his breath? Oh, right . . .

"Roy!"

Ollie was looking down at him with more concern than Roy could ever remember seeing on his face before. He looked panicked.

 _I must be closer than I thought_.

"Dear God, he's drenched in blood," Ollie gasped to the person behind him. The blanket soaked through almost immediately. "How much of this is yours, Roy?"

It took some effort forming the words but he managed. "I th-think . . . most of it."

" _Most_ of it?" Ollie stared at him in disbelief.

"Pretty much. Some's Rob's . . ." he said. "The l-lion . . . got him . . . too."

Ollie went to gather him up in his arms when Roy's nerves decided they wanted to work again. He cried out in pain and arched up in a misguided effort to pull away from the pressure. _Where is the damned numbness when I need it_?

"M'gann! M'gann, I need you here!" Ollie called back over his shoulder.

The light from the ship put the Martian's face in shadow but lit up her hair like a ring of fire or . . . a halo? God, he really was losing it! The world seemed to tilt and shift as M'gann lifted him up with her telekinesis. Roy cried out in sudden fear. He couldn't leave Robin behind!

" _No_! Not yet!" he yelled. It came out hoarse and barely noticeable over the sound of the engines. " _Robin_ . . . I have to . . . save Robin!"

The outline of a bat appeared over M'gann's shoulder. "Where is Robin, Roy?"

The growl was there in the man's voice as was the demand but, even fading as he was, Roy knew that Batman was being gentle with him because . . . _because he knew the truth_ , that Roy wasn't long for this world. He struggled to flex fingers that refused to work. He needed to grab him so Batman understood the gravity of the situation. His fingers twitched uselessly but it was enough. The Dark Knight took his hand.

 _Gravity_ . . . The irony made him want to laugh but all that came out was a cough. His eyes stung but no tears fell. His body needed all of the fluid it could get. He couldn't afford to waste it on something as invaluable as tears.

Maybe Miss Martian read his mind; maybe Batman was desperate for more information, either way he moved closer.

"Where is he, Roy? Help me save him," Batman said to him.

It almost sounded like he was begging, but the Bat didn't beg. Did he?

" _Where is Robin_? _Where is my son_?" Batman squeezed Roy's hand.

Maybe he did . . .

"T-Tree," Roy gasped. "Cliff . . . F-F-Fell!"

That ring of red was closing and the light was dimming.

 ** _Wait_** **!** _Wait_! _Not yet_ . . . _I can't go yet_! _I have to_ . . . _do something_ . . . But he couldn't remember what it was. The need was there, however. Desperate, desperate need.

Ollie appeared beside him. They were moving him, he thought. His eyes locked on Ollie.

 _Yes_! _Ollie_! _The need_ . . . _It had to be_ _ **him**_ _, didn't it_? **_This_** _must be what I need to do_ , he thought. _I need to fix this_! **_Us_** . . .

"O-Ollie?" Was that his voice? He couldn't even hear himself anymore. He tried again, louder. "Ollie!"

"I'm here, Roy," Ollie told him.

"W-Where?" It was growing darker . . . _Not yet_! _I have to_ . . .

"I'm right here," Ollie growled above him. "Can you see me now?"

The light struck the planes of his face, making the blond hair glow even as part of his face remained cast in shadow. But it was him, Roy could tell; it was Ollie.

"I'm s-sorry."

 _For everything. For not being more grateful to you for taking me in; for training me as your sidekick. For not understanding the pressures that life had placed on you. For being selfish, and angry, and . . . and yelling hateful things at you. I never hated you. I just needed to prove myself_. . . _to you, to the League, to everyone_!

He had a life full of regret. He figured he had only minutes to make it right.

"Ollie . . . I d-don't . . . hate you."

"Roy, it's okay. It's going to be alright," Ollie told him. The man ran a hand through Roy's hair and supported his head with it. He gently peeled the younger man's mask from his face in order to see his eyes. "I'm going to make sure of it. I'm going to fix this."

He looked away for a moment at someone beyond Roy's vision. "M'gann, hurry. We're going to lose him!"

"P-Please . . ."

"Don't try to speak," Ollie told him.

Was it getting darker? "Have . . . to . . . tell you . . ."

"Y-You're going to . . . You're going to be fine." Ollie voice faltered. "Dinah, hurry with that blood! He's in shock!"

"I . . . l-love . . . you."

" _What_?" Ollie stared down at him in shock.

Roy would have laughed if he could have. "Always . . . h-have. A-Always . . . w-will . . . old man," he murmured in gruff affection.

Seeing his former mentor rendered speechless, Roy figured he had won this round. The edges of his lips eased up into a smile as Ollie yanked off his own mask. The older man stared down into the younger's face. Everything Roy had ever hoped to see was right there staring down at him. A tear dripped from Ollie's face, falling onto Roy's cheek.

"Dinah, hurry! Can't we do anything more?" Ollie's words sounded far away. "Can't you make it go faster?"

Dinah voice came through, muffled. He couldn't understand what she was saying, however. Funny, Roy couldn't remember Canary's voice ever sounding so muted before. He felt something cold running through his body. It made him feel colder and he shivered. Another blanket covered him but didn't help.

He licked chapped lips and tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry.

"Roy, hang on, son. We doing everything we can," Ollie was petting his face, his hair. "You're going to be alright, do you hear me?"

Roy couldn't see him anymore. "C-Cold . . ." he choked.

"Don't you leave me, Roy, do you hear me? _Roy_?! Don't go, son . . . _Please_! I love you, too," Ollie's words cut through the darkness, warming his heart. "I love you . . . I always have. I-I always will . . ."

As the darkness and silence slid over and around him; as unconsciousness fell over him at last, one thought flitted through Roy's mind.

 _At least I'm not cold anymore_.

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **Aaaww . . . Amazing what you'll say when you think you're dying. And no, he's _not_ dead. I'll save you from worrying about that right now. I warn people, remember? This being Roy's POV, we know only what Roy knows which is he is suffering from shock and his senses are messed up, AND it is likely that Dinah added some pain meds to his IVs and everything put him out like a light.**

 **DaddyBats is the next chapter, I promise. I decided to give everyone their own chapters before the epilogue. (Except Artemis since she technically already had her reunion. But we see her again in the epilogue along with Kaldur. (I'll explain where he's been through all of this then.) Very little wait for the next chapter - just finishing it up and editing it. Looking to get it out by Saturday for a certain guest reviewer's birthday! ;D**


	30. Dazed and Confused

**Happy Birthday, Brooke . . .**

 **Warning: Some Strong Language and Peril . . . (Watch for a flashback and a few changes in POV)**

* * *

Batman followed the blood and the forms illuminated by the Javelin's lights to the cougar. It was sleeping heavily, obviously drugged. Its mouth twitching into snarls as if hunting its prey even in its dreams. The net had it safely contained and Batman could see one of Robin's darts still embedded in the lion's fur. They had limited time. He estimated that darts would give them roughly a half an hour before wearing off depending on when they were administered.

"Roy!"

Ollie had found one of the boys. Batman ran over only to catch his breath at the damage done to the eighteen year old by the large cat. Roy was a bloody mess.

 _Dear God_! Had the mountain lion gotten ahold of Dick? If it had, the damage he sustained would likely be even greater due to the younger boy's small size.

He glanced back over the field that was lit. There was too much blood to for it to have come from Roy alone. But where was Robin? He wouldn't have left Roy lying in a pool of his own blood unless he, too, had been injured.

He checked for the tracking beacon in Robin's belt again but received nothing. It made no sense. The mountains had blocked the signal before, but as soon as they found the valley it should have shown up . . . unless it had gotten damaged, the kind of damage that a swim in that torrent might account for. With no sign of the misplaced boy and no way to track him, Roy was his only hope of locating Robin now.

Arrow called to M'gann for assistance as Batman moved to join them.

" _No_! Not yet . . . Robin . . . I have to . . . save Robin!" Roy was saying.

It was as he feared; Robin was in trouble. Batman touched Arrow's shoulder, and Ollie moved back to give him room.

"Make it quick," the archer warned him. "He's in bad shape."

Batman stepped up beside M'gann. Her eyes glowed as she concentrated on levitating Roy whose injuries were too severe to allow anyone to move him without pain. He peered down in to a face what was far too pale.

"Where is Robin, Roy?"

Roy's hand twitched, bumping the back of Batman's glove. Without hesitation, he caught the younger man's hand in his own. M'gann stepped around to Roy's other side without being asked and enabled Batman to lean in closer to the youth.

"Where is he, Roy? Help me save him," Batman said to him.

Roy didn't answer right away. His blood loss was leaving him slow and groggy, making it difficult for him to communicate. He squeezed the young man's hand gently but firmly. Batman was growing desperate. Robin was smaller than Roy . . . Blood loss on this scale would kill the younger boy in much less time.

" _Where is Robin_? Where is _my son_?" He raised his voice, uncaring who heard his plea, or what they thought of it. He needed Roy to focus just long enough . . .

"T-Tree," Roy gasped, finally. "Cliff . . . F-F-Fell!"

 _Fell_? Batman's gazed at the tree in horror as he moved out of the others' way.

The branches extended out beyond the edge of the cliff. He yanked out his bat-light and shone it around the ground at the base of the tree, but no familiar shape presented itself. He moved the light along the length of the branch. Robin must have attempted to climb the tree to get away from the cougar, but cougars are nimble climbers. It would have followed him.

The light glinted off of the steel grapple wrapped around one of the higher branches. The monofilament was thin but visible, when you know what to look for, despite the darkness. It was near the end of the branch, several feet beyond the cliff's edge. At the end of it dangled Robin's grapple gun, swaying in the bitter wind but no sign of the boy.

 _Dear God . . . No_!

He spun around. "Kid Flash!"

The redheaded speedster appeared in front of him before Batman finished yelling his name.

"I need you at the bottom of the cliff, now!"

Wally's expression went slack as the implications of Batman's request became clear. "What? W-Why?"

"I-I . . ." The words wouldn't come, ". . . need you to check . . . to see."

Wally looked out and saw the abandoned grapple gun. "R-Rob?"

"Kid . . . Wally, look at me," Batman growled. "I need to know if he's . . . Can you do this? If you can't . . ."

Mute in his sudden grief, Wally nodded. He could do this one last thing for his best friend. Robin would want to go home.

Batman handed the boy his light. "Do you need more than this? Can you manage safely in the dark? I'll follow in the ship." He hesitated. "I don't want him to . . . to be alone."

Wally nodded, taking the bat-light. "I'll find him," he choked. "I'll stay with him until you get there."

"Here now," Ramón interrupted. "What's this one planning to do? These mountains are too dangerous to go running around in the dark."

"He's going to look for a body." That was the hardest thing Batman had ever said.

Understanding followed by a flash of sympathy lit the older man's face. The man was inexplicably holding a small white fox in his arms, petting the creature like a cat.

"It's still dangerous, you know. Do you know your way down, son?" he asked softly of the teenager between them.

"I know the way," Wally said, numbly. A second later he was gone, the streak of light disappearing into the darkness as the speedster took the more direct route straight down the rock face of the cliff.

Batman turned to go back to the ship when the fox let out a kind of bawling cry, something that sounded between a cat and a dog's bark, and he leaped out of Ramón's arms. The animal darted around the biologist's ankles and bounded back to toward the precipice. It turned and gave another odd bark.

"What's that, Cecil?" the scruffy woodsman called as he moved in the fox's direction. "What did you find, boy?"

The fox spun in place, obviously excited about something.

Scowling, his heart pounding, Batman followed. It could be the animal was somehow telling them where Robin fell to his death, or maybe the fox knew something . . . He was grasping at straws, but if his son had fallen from the cliff, there was no saving him from that.

"What is it? What's he trying to tell you?" he asked Ramón.

Ramón shook his head. "I don't rightly know but it can't hurt to take a look. 'Spect I won't see much of anything in the dark. Couldn't make out much of anything at the bottom of the cliff even in the light. Too far."

"My cowl has night vision and infrared vision," Batman told him. "Let's see if one of them can tell me anything."

Both men edged cautiously for the lip of the precipice, kneeling and then laying down in the snow in order to peer into the gulf.

* * *

"Hang on, Rob," Roy called to him. "I'm coming!"

Robin tightened his grip as he watch Roy struggling to climb to his feet. The ground around the older boy was littered with useless arrows and looked black where it was wet with blood. Roy stumbled and weaved erratically as he made his way toward the tree. He could barely walk.

"Rob, can you hit recoil? Let the grapple gun do the work for you?" Roy called out to him. He stumbled and almost fell. "I'll climb out onto the branch and pull you in."

Robin tried to move his thumb over the button and nearly lost his grip. Panicked, he clutched the handle of the device instead.

"S-Slipping . . ." he yelped. It was followed up by a harsh cough that almost rattled him free.

Roy grabbed the tree as if it were a lifeline. Even from a distance, Robin could tell his friend was using the trunk just to hold himself upright. His eyes widened as he realized then what he should have realized sooner.

 _Roy can't help me . . . Roy can barely help himself_.

"Roy? I c-can't . . . hold it!"

Robin was breathless. He was getting weaker by the second. He was going to fall soon, long before Roy could reach him . . . _If_ Roy could reach him. And from the look of it, he wasn't going to.

"Yes, you can! I'm coming to get you," Roy called out through what sounded like gritted teeth. Even from here, Robin could see the other boy's uniform was shredded in multiple places from the lion's claws. He was in no shape to attempt a rescue.

 _Then both of us would fall_ . . .

No . . . if Robin was going to get out of this, he was going to have to save himself. But how? He couldn't even shift his fingers without risking losing his grip on the grapple gun. He frowned, concentrating hard to judge the distance from where he dangled nine hundred feet from the ground to the edge of the cliff.

Maybe if he got a little momentum, he could swing himself to safety?

He used his legs to shift his weight and started moving. His hands hurt and the ache extended now all the way into his forearms, up further into his shoulders. It didn't take but a few swings to realize that he was going to fall short of his goal. He was a trapeze artist . . . Robin's ability to judge the distance and determine whether or not he could make the leap was ingrained into his very DNA. He wasn't going to make it.

His eyes dropped down is despair . . . He didn't want to die. Conner still needed the medication that Robin had slung across his body in the canvas bag. That's when he saw it in the rapidly fading light.

The ledge . . .

It was around a twenty foot drop below him. The ledge was long, but the width from the wall was perhaps four feet. Not a lot of wiggle room but more than enough for some of his stature. For the first time in his memory, Robin came to appreciate his small size. It was a risk. He could land wrong. He could roll or slip off upon landing. There were dozens of stones covering the surface that could break his bones or trip him up.

He might not be able to reach the top of the cliff but Robin thought he could manage the ledge. It wouldn't be pretty. It would probably hurt . . . a lot, but he could make it. He was almost sure of it . . . _and it's a lot better than the alternative_.

A yelp had Robin jerking his eyes up.

"Roy?!"

The archer had dropped to the ground in an ungainly sprawl, sparking concern in the younger boy when he did not immediately climb to his feet. Unfortunately, there was nothing Robin could do for him. He couldn't save anyone unless he saved himself first. There was no more time . . . His grip was slipping. With no other choice left to him, Robin waited only until he was on the upswing and then let go . . .

He smacked the granite high, managing to knock out what little breath he had in him. Robin's finger's scrabbled to grip the wall but the cold and the pain from his injuries made him clumsy. He fell onto the uneven ledge awkwardly, a sickening crunch and a shooting pain up his arm telling him he had just broken his wrist. Unable to catch himself, Robin's forehead collided with the hard stones littering the overhang and the darkness was split for a second with a flash of light.

Stunned, the boy slid along the loose gravel nearly a foot before settling into a precarious position with one leg and an arm hanging suspended over the valley floor far below.

* * *

Batman leaned over the lip of the escarpment and activated his night vision lenses. What he saw made is heart leap.

"I think I see . . ." he was almost afraid to voice it. "Yes, it is! It's a ledge!"

"Is it now?" Ramón exclaimed beside him.

They hadn't been able to see it on the way in. Perhaps because of the way the wall of granite curved away . . . The distance prevented him from seeing much more than outlines. At first glance, nothing moved but there appeared to be a shape there that didn't belonged, one with softer, rounder edges as one might find on a person.

"Can you see the young'un?" Ramón was almost afraid to ask. The fellow's costume covered him from tip to stern but it couldn't hide the fear in his voice.

"Hold on," Batman flicked his lenses to infrared. If something was alive down there . . . or had been recently enough, it should leave some kind of heat signature.

 _There_! _It was Robin_! From the angle of his body, it looked as though he was dangerously close to slipping from the ledge. The color was also concerning. It wasn't bright enough . . . meaning, Robin was either hypothermic or suffering from the same kind of catastrophic blood loss that plagued Red Arrow.

 _But he was alive_! _His son was_ _ **alive**_!

" _It's him_! He somehow managed to land on a ledge below us, maybe twenty feet, give or take." Batman was on his feet and unclipping something from the back of his belt. "I'm going to lower myself down to him and evaluate his condition."

* * *

Cecil yipped and chittered, running in worried circles.

"You done did good, Cecil," Ramón scratched the fox behind his big ears once he pushed himself up. "I'll see about getting the others." He hesitated. "You don't suppose that little bit of green could levitate the boy out of there, could she? Like she did for the elder boy, Roy?"

"I don't know Robin's injuries yet. He might need a neck brace and a back board. Once he's secure, however, Miss Martian could lift him up. She just needs to be able to see him. Tell her to bring those things with her." With that, Batman sent his grapple into the same tree that held Robin's line. Without a word, he stepped out into the abyss and began lowering himself down.

Ramón didn't wait any longer. He turned and ran back to the ship, his boots crunching loudly in the hard, frozen snow. As he stomped up into the ship he met the green girl he was looking for.

"There you are, little green," Ramón said.

"Did you locate Robin?" the Martian girl asked immediately. Her eyes were wide with concern.

"That Bat fellow did with a little help from Cecil," he told her. He ignored her confusion. She hadn't had a chance to meet the fox yet. "The young'un had dropped onto a ledge. The Bat said to bring a hard collar and spine board and come running. I need to find another light." Ramón paused in his quest, turning back to her. "You can _lift_ the boy up the same as you did for the other fellow, right? Even though he's twenty feet or so down the side of the cliff?"

The Martian girl nodded and floated up off of her feet. "I can," she assured him. "What's a hard collar? I'm guessing a spine board is like a back board?"

"That'd be what a Canadian would call it, little green," Ramón told her, "but I think your Bat-fellow called it a neck brace."

She nodded sharply. "Right, I'm on it! You can find spare flashlights in that cabinet. I'll be right back."

Ramón had to force his eyes from following her as she flew back the way she came. He didn't think he'd ever get used to this, but he had his own job to do. The faster they could get to the boy, the better his chances at surviving. He grabbed three flashlights and ran out the door. The Martian little bit of fluff could find him by the beams of light, he would shine one back her way to guide her.

He'd grown fond of the boys over the past few days, maybe even a little too fond. Emotions he hadn't felt in decades were tugging on his heartstrings. He could only hope these costumed folk knew what they were doing when it came to helping them. Seeing the older youth in such bad shape made him more than a little worried over young Robin.

* * *

Batman lowered himself until he was even with the ledge. Closer, like he was, he could see Robin far more clearly with his night vision goggles. He stepped carefully onto the ledge, checking first to see if it would hold his weight before releasing his grapple gun and kneeling beside the body of his boy.

The ledge wasn't level. One side of it angled away from the cliff face. Robin was incredibly lucky he didn't slide off and fall to his death. He wondered why the boy hadn't attempted to either use his grapple to lift him up to the tree limbs or lower himself to a safe distance to the ledge. The answer became clear, however, the moment Batman flicked off his night vision and struck a flare. Dark spots riddled the ledge and a long stream of what had to be blood ran off the side of the ledge.

 _Please_ . . .

Holding his breath, Batman slipped off one of his gloves and located Robin's pulse with a shaking hand. The heartbeat he found was fast but steady. _Oh, thank God! Thank God_ . . . He closed his eyes and fought off the prickle of grateful tears. His boy wasn't out of the woods yet.

He was startled by a low moan and movement as Robin reacted to his touch. Unfortunately, the slight movement caused the boy's body to start sliding beneath his hand and Batman quickly pulled his son back towards him.

As much as he wanted to gather his child up into his arms and carry him to the ship, he couldn't do that. Robin had dropped a good twenty feet to the ledge. What sort of injuries had he sustained in the process? If he simply tossed the boy over his shoulder, he took the risk of aggravating a more serious injury . . . something that might paralyze the boy or kill him outright.

There wasn't a large amount of space available for the both of them so Batman stood up and straddled Robin's body in order to draw him safely away from the edge. His boot soles gripped the uneven surface but even so he still found himself slipping a few inches. He kneeled on the open side of the ledge, ensuring that his body would provide a barrier that would prevent his son from falling from their precarious perch.

The light of the flare showed the source of much of the blood. The claws of the mountain lion had shredded the back of the boy's uniform, its armor doing little to protect the tender skin beneath. Nevertheless, he sighed in relief; the bleeding didn't appear to be as profuse as Roy's had been.

Robin lifted his head and groaned, dropping it back down almost immediately.

"Khul." he breathed out softly. [Shit.]

Batman wasn't sure which surprised him more, the curse itself or the language it was spoken in.

Dick hadn't used Romany in years and he was fairly certain that the boy's father hadn't cursed in front of him. Adopting a child who had grown up bi-lingual, Bruce had made certain that he could speak Rom as well, although Dick had seldom resorted to it once coming to live with him. In the beginning, he had only used it when angered or frustrated but eventually even that had given way to English exclusively.

"How do you feel?" Batman asked him as he helped the boy to turn over as gently as he could.

"Pahome," Robin complained. [Frozen]

He yanked off his cape to cover his son.

"C-Cold. I want pi pani," the boy muttered. [to drink water]

"Soon," Batman promised. "Once we get you to safety."

"Gooi," Dick slurred. [Pudding]

"What?" Batman frowned. The boy wasn't making sense.

The Rom word was followed by a round of coughing. Batman winced at the congestion that he heard in the boy's lungs. _How had he managed to climb that cliff with that cough_?

The lenses hid Robin's eyes but Batman was sure he was struggling to focus on him. In the light of the flare, Batman saw a dark mark covering the majority of one side of the boy's face, from forehead to jaw. Even his ear bore marks of swelling and discoloration. But it was the darker mark on across the front of his forehead and swelling around one of Robin's eyes that concerned him more. Those were new . . . but it could also explain Dick sudden change in language.

"Hello down there!"

Batman looked up. Ramón was back. _Good_. _He hadn't taken very long at all_.

"Is Miss Martian with you?" he called up.

"Not yet," the man answered. His face was lit up from the flashlight he carried. "She's on her way. I didn't wait for her." Ramón waved a flashlight at him. "I figured you wanted this as soon as possible."

"Right. Drop it down to me," Batman ordered.

"How is he?" the older man asked as he dropped one of the flashlights.

"Alive! More than that I don't know yet," Batman answered, catching the flashlight handily.

He turned the beam on his son. Robin flinched under the glare of the bright light and turned his face away. As Batman shone it over the boy's body to determine what other injuries the boy suffered, he found more shredded material along his son's ribs under the boy's arm.

 _Gotten from two different attacks_?

Blood trickled from these as well. Neither strike had been devastating then; this being evidence that Robin had been in the process of dodging during both attacks. The claws caught, did some damage but because Robin had been moving away from the blows, the damage wasn't life threatening. Apparently, Roy had taken the brunt of it.

The cat most likely had been after Robin, the smaller of the two. Ramón had said the boy had been sick so the animal probably smelled that on him and thought that it had a shot of killing the boy and dragging him off. Roy had gotten hurt in the process of protecting Robin, possibly taking on the cougar in a head on confrontation. The older boy's injuries had been defensive wounds obtained while trying to protect his gut.

They were far enough away that Ramón couldn't see them clearly. Batman needed to know how bad Robin's head injury was. There wasn't any blood on his face but that didn't mean anything if Robin was bleeding on the inside of his skull. He carefully peeled away Robin's mask, wincing in sympathy as the action irritated Dick's facial injuries. Sure enough, a bruise and some swelling was attempting to circle the boy's right eye.

Dick's eyes had closed. Bruce needed them open.

"What's your name?" he asked firmly.

"Verakai," Dick mumbled, irritated, but at least he opened his eyes. [Wherever]

Batman blinked. _That isn't good_. Not only was that not in English, but Dick was making no sense in Romany either.

"Nnngh," Dick groaned. "Atchave." [I'll stay]

Batman held first one eye open and then the other, flicking the light into each eye individually. The left eye reacted normally, but the right was sluggish in response. That coupled with his obviously muddied thoughts and language confusion spelled a definite concussion but what was going on inside his skull? _Is there a brain bleed_? _Swelling_? _How serious is this_?

The knot in his stomach had just begun to unravel. Now it tightened yet again as a new fear introduced itself.

"Stop! Jal avree!" [Go away!] Dick attempted to shove the light away but missed completely. Groaning, he held his wrist against his chest.

Pushing the unhelpful emotions back into their box, Batman forced himself to diagnose his boy's injuries. _Dick's alive_! _Once he is safe and on the mend, I can let my guard down_ , he told himself critically. _He needs you to be Batman right now. Bruce Wayne will have to wait a little longer_.

He thought about what he was seeing. _Clumsiness_. _Possible injured wrist._ _Depth perception appears to be affected_ . . .

"So'i tjiro nav?" Batman repeated his earlier question, but in Rom this time. [What's your name?]

"Dick," the boy finally gasped and flew into a spasm of coughs again, attempting to grasp at his ribs.

 _Finally the boy answered correctly_. Batman made note of the sounds of pain, continuing to chalk up Robin's injuries as he discovered them. _Bruised ribs, possibly broken_. _That's not going to be fun with pneumonia_.

"Who am I?" Batman really wanted Dick to speak in English.

"Chi hacarav," Dick said. [I don't understand]

This reverting to Romany, however, still bothered him. It wasn't truly Dick's first language. Bruce had searched out and spoken with the owner of the circus, C.C. "Pops" Haley, Dick's 'Uncle Jack' to learn more about the boy that he had made a part of his life. According to Haley, although Dick's father taught his son the Romany language, his mother had ensured that the boy was also fluent in English.

 _So, why isn't the boy responding in English_?

"Dick, answer me! Who am I?"

The boy blinked and stared at him for a moment.

"Shilmulo!" [?] Dick flailed his arm and gasped, tucking his injured wrist under his other arm. "Ow . . . Leave me alone!" He managed to say between coughs.

Batman didn't recognize the word, meaning it wasn't something used in everyday speech. He would have to ask Dick about it when he was more aware. Again he noted Dick's attempt to protect his wrist. _Sprained or something more_?

"Dick, look at me! Who am I?" Bruce caught his face in his hand gently.

The boy blinked at him "B-Batman?"

 _Oh, thank God_! He smiled. "You had me worried there, chum. How do you feel?"

"Sar laci and'ekh vadra," Dick mumbled. [Like crabs in a bucket]

"I'm not sure what you mean? A bucket of crabs?" Batman asked, his lips twitching at the odd description. He was certain, however, that Dick didn't actually know what he saying either and he found himself wondering how much of this conversation the boy would remember.

"Sov," the boy whined. [Sleep]

"English, and no sleeping," Batman told him. "Not yet. I need you to stay awake. You have a concussion."

"I don't want to," Dick told him, pouting. "My head hurts."

"I know, son. We're going to fix that. What else hurts?" he asked him, gently lifting the abused wrist free from under the boy's arm. He didn't even need the light to tell the wrist was swollen, affirming his suspicion. He could feel the bones grinding against one another easily in his hand just by lifting it up. Dick cried out, twisting in pain.

 _Definitely broken_.

"Batman?" M'gann's worried voice sounded close.

He was carefully reapplying Dick's mask when the Martian girl levitated down to him. The neck brace and the backboard were beside her.

Seeing the boy was awake, M'gann spoke to him. "Robin? Thank goodness! We were so worried about you."

"Chailsom," the boy responded. "Ov yilo isi?" [I am full. Is it okay?]

M'gann blinked, confused. "W-What did he say?"

Batman shook his head as he applied the neck brace first. "English, Robin" he reminded the boy. "He has a concussion. Don't pay attention to what he says," Batman explained to M'gann. "He's not making much sense."

For the first time, M'gann noticed the mottled bruising on Robin's face. "Oh no! Is he going to be okay?"

"Dinlo," Robin muttered, his words slurring slightly. [Stupid]

"Language, Robin," Batman warned, although the boy had no idea what he was saying. He looked at M'gann. "Can you keep him from moving as I slip the board beneath him?"

She nodded as he moved in order to position the board.

"Is that a language?" she asked.

"It is," Batman said as he began strapping his son to the board.

"I didn't know Robin knew other languages besides English and computers. What is it?" she asked curiously.

"Romany," Batman answered brusquely. "Robin knows several languages, as do I," he said, making it sound like the languages were all a part of Robin's training rather than part of his background.

"I don't know that one," the Martian admitted. "Are you ready?"

Batman nodded. "He's secure. I'll be right behind you," he told her as he reached out for his grapple gun.

As M'gann lifted Robin up to the cliff top, Batman followed swiftly using his line. He detached the grapple with practiced ease as he stepped back onto solid ground and moved quickly to catch up to his boy. He tossed a communicator towards Ramón.

"Call Kid Flash and tell him we found Robin and he's going to be alright," he told the biologist. "If you don't mind joining us, I'll see to it that you're escorted home in the morning."

* * *

If Ramón wanted to argue, it would have been to empty air as the Dark Knight was already entering the ship. As he watched, Cecil ran into the ship behind them. The little fox hadn't even hesitated at the technology in his need to check on his new friend. Ramón shook his head and fiddled with the communicator.

"KF here," instantly came through, startling the older man into dropping it. He bent to retrieve it and tried again.

"Um, hello?"

"This is Kid Flash. Where is Batman?" the red-headed speedster replied.

Ramón cleared his throat. "He told me to let you know that Robin's been found and to get yourself on up . . ." The boy appeared at of nowhere in front of him. The wind from his arrival whipped his beaver cap right off the top of his head. ". . . here."

"TheyfoundRobin?He'salive?" the Kid asked excitedly. He spoke so quickly, Ramón couldn't quite follow his words.

"Say what now? Could you repeat that a might slower for us regular folk?"

"Is Rob alive?" Kid asked grabbing the biologist by his arms.

"He surely is!" Ramón was happy to share the news. "Your Bat-fellow said the young'un was going to be . . ." and he was suddenly talking to thin air, ". . . alright?"

Ramón glanced back once at the mountain lion. He had pulled off the net just a few minutes ago. The cat was trying to stand on its own and was still a little wobbly after whatever tranquilizer had been given to it but it looked to be recovering nicely. Just as well Ramón had to retrieve his fox. He didn't cotton to hiking home in the dark with an angry puma on his trail. Last thing he needed was the big cat taking to hanging out around his back porch and eating Cecil for its midday snack.

Shaking his head over the odd course his life had recently taken, Ramón stomped his feet free of snow and entered the ship behind the caped wonders. He whistled between his teeth.

"Yessiree, this here is going to take some getting used to," he muttered to himself with a snort.

* * *

By the time Robin had been brought into the med bay, Roy had been stripped, bandaged and bundled up. Two bags hung from IV poles on one side of him, one whole blood and the other a saline drip with antibiotics. The color returning to the young archer's face was promising a good prognosis for his recovery, although one wouldn't know it to look at Ollie's face. The man looked like he had been beaned in the head with a hammer. He was pale and shaky and Artemis was dragging a chair over so he could sit down. The elder archer clung to Roy's hand like it was a lifeline.

Batman took all this in at a glance. His attention was fastened on getting Robin the treatment he needed as quickly as possible.

"Dinah, Robin needs you," he demanded.

He had to admit, the blonde crier was efficient. She met them at the table with a warmed blanket, removing Batman's cape and wrapping the boy in it even before M'gann had settled him onto the table.

"Help me secure him for take-off," Dinah told him. "M'gann, we need you to get us to the Watchtower ASAP. Artemis," she called the girl without bothering to turn around, "hand me hand me a bag of . . ." she looked Bruce.

"A positive," he answered automatically.

"You heard the man," Dinah snapped. "Then go up to the front and buckle up for the trip back."

Artemis closed the door to the small refrigerator that held the blood. "Can't I stay back here? I can help!"

"We need to remove Robin's mask," Batman told her as she handed the blood to Canary. "Make sure our biologist friend is prepared for the trip as well."

Artemis blinked. "Ramón is coming with us?"

"He's too far from his cabin to leave behind with dropping temperatures and predators out," Batman explained as he finished locking Robin's backboard to the stationary table. "I'd prefer not to detour while the Robin and Red Arrow are in such a serious condition. We can arrange for him to be returned to his home tomorrow. In the meantime . . ."

"Right! On it," Artemis answered crisply. She might be willing to try to convince Black Canary to let her stay but no one argued with Batman. Two steps later, she yelped with surprise. "What the heck is that?"

The little white fox had dashed between her legs and made a beeline for the table holding Robin. The height of the table had no bearing as the fox leapt the distance effortlessly. Batman caught the animal out of the air before he could land on Robin's chest. Cecil squawked at him with distinct irritability.

"What do we have here?" Dinah asked curiously. Her eyes softened at the big eyes and ears that twitched, and she smiled.

"Ah, is that Cecil?" Artemis turned around to see. "I never got to meet him. Ramón had said he had escaped the shack and followed Robin on the hike to the cabin."

"As much as I appreciate Cecil's assistance earlier, the medical bay isn't the place for him," Batman declared. "Are you wearing your gloves? He's not too happy with me right now. I don't want you getting nipped."

Artemis yanked them out of her belt and shoved her hands into them. Batman was holding the fox out to her before she had finished.

"Take him to Dr. Dupree," he ordered. "Go now. Robin needs care."

Artemis accepted Cecil and turned to go. The fox struggled to get free of her but didn't resort to biting, thankfully. This time a burst of wind whipped her hair into her face.

"Wally," she yelped.

"Where's Rob? How's Roy? Are they alright? How can I help?" Wally stopped between the two tables, vibrating with nerves. He dropped two fur hats on the floor he had discovered at the base of the cliff.

His eyes widened with shock at the sight of Robin. He had already seen Roy's wounds and they were bad, but Rob's face was pasty pale beneath the mottled colors of old and new bruises. Splotches of bright red were vivid on the younger boy's cheeks.

"You can help by coming up front with me," Artemis grabbed one of his arms and gave it a tug. "They have to remove Robin's mask."

Batman knew that Wally already knew Robin's secret identity, but it would be news to the rest of the team. He knew that he preferred to keep Wally's insider knowledge as much a secret as Robin's identity itself.

"But Rob and Roy are my best friends," Wally protested.

"As such, you would want them to receive medical attention as quickly as possible with no delays," Batman said in no uncertain terms. "Help M'gann with take-off. Robin will need an immediate CT scan as soon as we arrive."

"Will he be okay, do you think?" Wally asked as he allowed Artemis to drag him toward the door.

"He should be," Batman nodded, "if we can get him the care he needs."

Wally sighed, but turned and followed Artemis without another word of protest.

"I'm impressed," Dinah told him. "The only way we could get Wally out of here earlier was to send him out after Robin."

Ollie looked up from where Roy sprawled in front of him. "I was under the impression that Wally knew Dick."

"He does, but Artemis doesn't know that and I prefer to keep it that way," Batman murmured as he once more peeled Robin's mask away. "The less people who know about Wally's knowledge, the less chances that someone will coax it out of him."

The boy's eyes were closed once again. Had he passed out?

"How long has he been unconscious?" Dinah asked as she slid the needle into the vein in the elbow of Robin's good arm and set up the bag of A+ blood and another of a warmed saline solution to help counteract the effects of what appeared to be moderate hypothermia. Not an easy task when the boy had started shivering again.

"He was awake when I found him," Batman muttered.

He touched Dick's face beside his mouth, near his chin. It was the only place available that wasn't black, blue, purple, or green. It looked even worse in the bright light of the medical bay than it had with just a flashlight. He tapped the boy's face lightly.

"Robin? Can you hear me?" he called to the boy. "Dick, answer me!"

"Na . . . Go avree, bengalo," Dick obeyed, but not in the fashion Batman would have preferred. [No . . . Go away, Idiot]

Dinah looked up at Bruce, startled. "What's this? Did you understand that?"

Bruce shoved back his cowl. He was known by everyone in here, including Roy although the older teen was currently unconscious.

"Unfortunately, I did," he muttered, not happy with Dick's rudeness but trying to be patient. The boy was likely miserable.

"All I got from it was 'go'," Ollie frowned. "Is that a language or gibberish?"

"It's a language," Bruce admitted. "Romany."

"What? Like . . . the Gypsy language?" Ollie asked, confused. "Where the hell did Dick pick that up?"

"They don't like being called gypsies," Bruce growled. "Dick's biological father was a Rom."

Dinah opened a drawer and pulled out a penlight. "That explains how he knows the language, but why is he speaking . . . Romany, did you say?"

"You can see by looking at him, he received a concussion this evening. That along with the earlier concussion he received three days ago." Bruce told them. "It isn't a question of why he's speaking a different language, I'd be more surprised if he wasn't."

He leaned down to the boy again. "Dick, I need you to stay awake now. Open your eyes for Dinah." The boy frowned and Bruce tried to coax him. "Chindilan?" [Are you tired?]

"Va . . . Ov yilo isi sov?" Dick asked, blinking. [Yes . . . Is it okay to sleep?]

One didn't even need to shine the light to see the differences in the size of his pupils. It wasn't a great difference but what it meant was worrisome. Again, when Dinah used the penlight, the right eye, although contracting, had a slower response time compared to the left.

"Not yet," Bruce told him. The language was still a problem but at least his answer made sense. "I need you to try to speak in English, son. Can you do that?"

Dick turned his head to look at him sadly. "Soske?" [Why?]

He opted for the truth. "Because you are scaring me."

Dick blinked at him for a second. "I'm sorry, Da. I don't mean to."

Bruce smiled at him and kissed the top of the boy's head where no bruise or bump could be found. "Good boy. That's better."

Dinah smiled at the father and son reunited at last. What she knew of Bruce, that in spite of his reputation a ladies' man, he was not an emotional or openly affectionate man. She had found herself often feeling sorry for Robin when the other sidekicks would have a tender or caring moment with their mentors, and the most that Batman would manage would be a lightly-dropped hand on his shoulder.

She had wondered about their home life. Simply because she was aware of Batman and Robin's secret identities didn't mean she was privy to what went on behind the doors of Wayne Manor. In fact, with the exception of Wally and Clark, no other members of the Justice League or Young Justice had ever been invited into the Caped Crusaders' real lives to learn about them. But this was almost more than she could have hoped for.

"He doesn't seem to have a spinal injuries, Bruce. I think we can take the neck brace off while we turn him over and see to these claw marks."

Bruce nodded. "I think he managed to dodge the worst of the cougar's attack. He was bleeding but not to the extent that Roy did."

"They'll still need to be cleaned," Dinah said. "I won't be able to do much for his pain except maybe a local in the worst places. It's too dangerous with a head injury. You'll need to hold him still."

Bruce sighed and nodded. He set the neck brace to the side. For the first time, Bruce got a good look at his uniform and the stitches that ran up the length next to the clasps. He frowned even as Dinah used scissors to cut through it once again. As he helped her to remove the uniform, it was all he could do to not add his own gasp to hers.

"Good God," Ollie exclaimed in shock. "What happened to him?"

"The river," Bruce reminded him.

Dick's torso was covered in bruises. Nearly all of them were in the first stages of fading but there were several that were darkening to that blue-black color of the recently acquired. Dinah's hand moved over some of the more colorful spots, searching for signs of internal bleeding. Dick jerked as her fingers ran over his sensitive ribs. Bruce helped him into a sitting position as he was wracked by an outburst of coughing.

"And he scaled a fucking cliff in this condition? What the hell are you teaching this boy, Bruce?" Ollie snapped angrily.

"While you're opinion of my mentoring skills is flattering, Arrow, I would have never let him go out in his condition," Bruce replied with a frown.

He was getting his first good look at the claw marks that scored Dick's back and side. There were a couple that were deep and still bled freely but thankfully the rest were shallow and had stopped seeping on their own. They could see bruising between the torn stripes the cat had left across the boy's ribs.

"If a couple of these ribs weren't broken before, I'd bet they are now. I can close some of these deeper claw marks with a few stitches but you know some of these are going to leave some pretty nasty scarring," Dinah murmured.

Dick wobbled on the table. "I feel . . . sick," he complained. Pleading eyes searched out Bruce.

Throwing up with pneumonia and broken ribs were not the kind of things Bruce would wish on anyone, let alone his son. "Do you feel better lying down?" he asked.

Dick swallowed audibly and nodded his head. The movement was immediately regretted as the concussion made its presence known. Dick's eyes widened in alarm as a whine escaped. Ollie moved fast, handing Bruce a container just in time. The round was accentuated by several wet hacking coughs.

By the time he was finished, Dick was trembling and tracks of tears streaked his face. Bruce supported him against his chest, rocking him slowly in hopes of soothing the boy without setting off another round of pain-filled misery. When he seemed calm, Bruce tried easing him back onto the table but the boy's breathing became more labored. He grew frustrated as he realized that there was no position that gave the child relief, and there would be no painkillers until after the CT scan.

"How soon til we get there?" he barked.

Dinah answered a minute later. "M'gann said we'll be approaching the Watchtower in another fifteen minutes."

That was an eternity when one couldn't breathe and couldn't rest properly. He glanced at where Ollie sat by Roy, his forehead resting on the gurney as he held the young man's hand. Sympathy ran through him. Those two had been going round and round for that past year; their relationship becoming rockier as Roy had rebelled and pushed for more independence. Oliver had only wanted to protect him from the worst of the dregs society managed to churn out. Of course, his efforts were unappreciated.

He hated to interrupt what looked to be a rare moment of peace between the two, but Roy slept heavily under the compassionate care of sedating painkillers.

"Ollie, a little help here?"

"What do you need, Bruce?" Ollie let go of his former ward's hand and came over.

"Support him while I get into position," he instructed.

A moment later, Bruce sat on the end of the table as Ollie helped Dick lean back against his father's chest. The position put less stress on the boy's ribs but kept him elevated enough to help ease his troubled breathing. Dinah used the calm to splint Dick's wrist. She agreed it would likely need surgery to ensure the wrist was set properly and no permanent damage had been done.

"Da?"

"Easy, Dick. Just rest, but try to stay awake a little longer," Bruce instructed him. "Tell me about the last thing you can remember."

Dick was silent for a long moment. Bruce assumed he was struggling to get his jumbled thoughts in order when he stiffened and jerked upright with a cry of pain.

"Conner! Conner's dying!" Dick grunted as he suddenly tried to lunge from the table.

Bruce grasped the boy to keep him from falling and injuring himself further.

"Dick, stop! Conner's alright! He's with Clark. He's with Superman. Conner's going to be just fine," he told the boy to calm him. He only hoped he wasn't lying.

"He's . . ." Dick coughed and whined as his adrenaline crashed with the assurance. The pain from his sudden movements were excruciating and his head spun. The nausea was back as well.

"He's going to be all right, son. I promise," Bruce crooned softly in Dick's ear. He raised helpless eyes to meet Dinah's and Ollie's. If he was wrong, Dick would be devastated after all he had risked to help the other boy.

M'gann's voice came over the intercom.

"Approaching Watchtower. Uncle J'onn wanted me to assure you that Dr. Mid-Nite is there and ready to assist."

"Any word on Superman and Superboy?" Dinah answered. It was worth a shot.

"No," M'gann's voice sounded tired and worried. "No word yet."

Bruce continued to rock his son gently and whispered assurances in his ear. In his confusion, Dick hadn't noticed Roy in the table nearby, and he hadn't thought to ask because Bruce suspected Dick didn't remember Roy coming after him or facing down the mountain lion. The boy's last memory had been of his friend dying in that mountain shack with only one grizzled old man keeping vigil over him.

Clark said he was going to meet them here with Conner. Batman prayed for all their sakes that the news would be good.

* * *

 **REACTIONS? ** _Mischief Tea_ \- You really need to get an account so I can chat with you! You're reviews are utterly entertaining! It's killing me that I can't comment back to you.****

 **Next up . . . Clark and Conner! Let me hear your thoughts. Thank you to Spanishplume for giving me the heads up on the different medical terms used in Canadian BC. While Batman might not call it that,** **Ramón certainly would. I changed a bit of the dialogue between him and M'gann to reflect that. Thank you for helping me add to the authenticity of the story. :D Love it!**

 **Oh, and everyone give a shout out to Brooke whose birthday is today (Sept. 24) when you drop me a review!**


	31. Making It Right

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

Superman flew as quickly as he could while carrying something so fragile. The strength of his cape would protect his passenger from the wind and temperatures of flying at such a great height as well as from the more serious G forces and friction while flying at great speeds. He wanted to climb above the clouds but he could not. The air was too thin.

He didn't have a problem with thin air as long as there _was_ air. His lungs' greater capacity made drawing enough oxygen easier than it would be for a human. Conner, being his clone, should share his large lungs but would the boy, in his weakened state, need more oxygen than he would be capable of drawing in? Clark didn't know but it wasn't a risk he was willing to take. After all, it was only minutes ago that he had been forced to make the boy's heart beat and his lungs to breathe for him.

And so he flew only as fast and as high as he might dare while carrying a human.

He flew just above the granite peaks of the mountains and then dipped lower, below radar so as not to alarm the governments he would be passing through. Most military and commercial radar recognized him when he buzzed by at speeds faster than any military jet or rocket, faster than any ballistic missile. Only Superman could achieve those speeds and those in charge would take note and go on with their day, without the worry that an enemy had gotten through their defenses.

It was Superman . . . Earth's mightiest hero, her protector, the one they could rely on to take care of them and make them feel safe and secure in their beds.

 _Superman_ . . . he snorted. _Some protector_!

Clark ground his teeth as Artemis' words played through his mind yet again.

 _"_ _He not just some clone_! _Don't you realize how hard he's worked, how far he's come just to impress_ _ **you**_? _You've seen his hurt, his disappointment at Superman's abandonment. He isn't our responsibility. He's_ _ **yours**_! _We took up the slack when it became obvious that you didn't give a damn_!"

It wasn't that he didn't give a damn . . .

His jaw ached, so hard did he clench it. His lies to himself weren't working anymore. He had spent the last four months giving a damn about everybody but the boy in his arms. He hadn't even told his parents about the clo . . . about Conner, and _why is that_? If he were being truthful with himself, Clark would admit that it was because they wouldn't approve of his actions and, like most people, he didn't want to disappoint his parents.

" _Tell Superman that I only wanted to be like him. Those were his last words to me_ ," Artemis had told him. " _For some reason, he looks up to you. Even after you rejected him, he only wanted to make you proud_."

Clark shook his head in anger. Bruce had been telling him for months to get his head out of his ass and do right by the boy . . . and Clark's response had been to make an excuse and fly away at supersonic speeds in order to escape what was ultimately his responsibility and his alone. It took a girl, one brave girl, to stand up to him, poke him in the chest, and give him 'what for,' as he ma would have described it, to get it through his super-thick skull.

The land fell away and the ocean churned beneath him. He picked up speed as he entered international waters. He had a destination in mind that would give Conner the strong sunlight he needed and the privacy the two of them required. The sun was shining but he couldn't stop just yet. He needed to find a time zone that would give Conner as much time in the sun as he needed.

As he approached the land from a northwesterly position, Superman avoided the cities along the coast. The fewer that were aware of his and the boy's presence in their country, the better. National relations were difficult enough without having to explain why the American hero, Superman, was flying through their airspace. While he might be the world's protector, he wasn't universally adored.

He found what he was looking for on the border of Algeria and Libya in the dry, arid sands of the Sahara. Clark's boots sank in the dune as he bent to lay his burden down. Again, the cape proved its worth by protecting its occupant from the burning sands. The weapon had made Conner susceptible to the cold; it made sense that while he was still suffering from its influence that Conner could also be burned. He kneeled beside the boy and carefully unwrapped him, exposing him to some of the strongest sunlight on the planet.

Conner was already stripped bare of all but his boxers and the bandage around his thigh. Just as well . . . It saved Clark the trouble of stripping the boy down himself. As he watched, Conner's head turned to take advantage of the sun's rays on his face and he took his first deep breath in what must have been three days.

The boy had yet to open his eyes but Clark thought that maybe he looked a little better already. He was surprised by the amount of relief that flowed through him at that thought. It was far greater that he had expected. Looking around him at the barren wasteland, Clark settled in to wait. He didn't know how long it would take Conner to recover but figured it could be a while. After all, technically, the boy _had_ just died . . .

Clark closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. _The boy had actually_ **_died_**! And on his watch . . . Oh, sure a case could be made that they had yet to find the shack with him and Artemis in it when it had happened but Clark _could_ have left the other Leaguers behind and found Conner much sooner. He could have found them all far more quickly if he had just pushed ahead. Bruce would have likely strangled him for going off without him but, truth be told, if Batman could have, he would have done the exact same thing.

So, why hadn't **_he_**?

The answer to that lay in the sand beside him. Clark had still been avoiding the clone like he would avoid kryptonite. If it hadn't been for the others on the team, he might not have even shown up.

 _No_ , he admitted to himself tiredly. No, he wouldn't have left Conner lost even if he had been the only one missing. Of that, he was certain but it wasn't a certainty he could be proud of. Clark would have searched him out only to be sure that the boy hadn't turned on them.

Conner's loyalty had been questionable in Clark's mind until Artemis had raked him over the coals. Someone didn't go to that extreme for someone else unless the person in doubt was considered to be trustworthy beyond measure. It made Clark reconsider all he knew about his clone . . . about Conner.

Batman had told him that Conner, as best they could determine, had been created from a sample of his DNA approximately eight months ago. Although the Genomorphs gave Conner an education, he had lacked experience socially. This, Batman, believed was part of the reason behind the boy's anger issues and frustration. He had been clear that Superman himself had been behind the rest of it.

Clark frowned. Conner, for all that he was a walking, talking sixteen year old – at least physically - the boy was socially inept. Emotionally, Conner was little more than a toddler. Toss a few hormones in there and Clark was surprised that the boy hadn't already had what would basically equal out to a massive Kryptonian temper tantrum. He could have wiped out a small town like Happy Harbor in the space of a few hours had he wanted to.

But he hadn't. _Why_? Clark suspected that had a lot to do with the team, or more specifically, his teammates . . . his friends.

A groan brought Clark out of his thoughts and he glanced anxiously at the boy beside him. He was looking better, Clark thought, less pale. His eyes slid down to the bandage around Conner leg. It was stained a nasty-looking, yellowish-brown color. Artemis and that biologist fellow had mentioned that the boy had obtained a wound during his rescue of Robin and that it had become infected.

It would do the wound good to be exposed to the air and, more importantly, the sunlight. He snapped the bandage easily and stared in horror at the wound. It was deep and the edges ragged. Clark could only imagine how painful it must have been. He remembered seeing his own teammates obtain wounds similar in severity. Right now, it was also raw and open. He could still see the marks of it being stitched closed at some point. The woodsman had obviously opened it back up in order to drain it. The smell was terrible!

Clark glanced up to that spot on the boy's ribs that Artemis believed was the point of contact of the red sun radiation weapon. It appeared lighter than he remembered it being at the shack. Was it the difference in the lighting or was earth's yellow sun healing it? Clark thought that maybe it was a little smaller than it had been. That could only be a good thing . . . He hoped.

"Am I dead?"

The question brought Clark's gaze swinging up to the boy's face. Conner blinked slowly, seemingly confused. He was staring into the sun, its yellow radiation a Kryptonian's source of power.

"No," Clark answered. "Not dead, but I'll admit, it was close."

Conner's gaze jerked in his direction as he stare at him in surprise. Clark tried to smile reassuringly. He wasn't entirely sure he managed to pull it off, however.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Conner asked. He suddenly became aware of his surroundings. "Wherever here is . . ."

"We're in the Sahara Desert," Clark volunteered. "On the border of Algeria and Libya." He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. "But you probably don't care about that."

"No . . . Um, I mean, yeah, sure." Conner attempted to push himself into a sitting position but slumped back, exhausted. "I-I feel so weak," he gasped out. It was followed by a grunt. "But better than I did."

"Th-That's good. That means it's working." Clark smiled, this time with hope. "What all do you remember?"

Conner was silent for a moment. He frowned as he tried to organize the events of the past several days. "We were on a mission . . . On a train. There was a scientist . . ." Conner rubbed a hand over his face and shuddered. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm still kind of cold."

Clark tilted his head. The boy had had a fever, ridiculously high, and now lay on the hot sands in one of the driest spots on earth. The temperature, by his estimate, was close to one hundred and twelve. Conner shouldn't feel cold . . . He leaned over and laid a hand on the boy's forehead.

"What?" the boy asked, startled. Superman had never voluntarily touched him before.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Clark told him. "I wanted to check your temperature. You've had a fever for the past three days. I've been told that a fever can make you feel cold."

Conner blinked. "Oh, okay," he stammered. "So, do I? Have a fever, I mean."

"You're still warm, but not as much as before." Clark frowned. "I'm not sure if this is still a fever or if you're just warm because of the sun."

"Hmm, feels good," Conner smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the slow return of his strength. "It feels like forever since I've felt it."

"I take it, it has been a while." Clark said. "Do you want to try to sit up? I can help you."

"O-Okay." He opened his eyes and held out his hand. "You don't mind?"

Clark stopped himself from wincing. "I don't." He grabbed the boy's hand and slid his other hand beneath Conner's shoulders. "On the count of three. One, two, alley-oop!"

The gentle tug brought the boy up where he wavered for a minute.

"You okay?"

Conner nodded, holding his hand to his head. "Yeah, just a little dizzy but it's going away on its own."

They sat in silence for a minute, side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Conner asked a second time, softly. He was looking away, however, almost as if he didn't think Clark would answer him.

"I came with the League to find you . . . and the others on your team. You were very ill, however, and well, I've had some experience with a weapon similar to the one that had been used on you. Sunlight helps. I brought you here because the sun is strong here and it is early enough that, if you needed to, you could stay here for hours yet, absorbing its energy."

"The . . . others . . ." Conner rubbed his face as he struggled again with his memories. "The others. Artemis and Roy and . . . and _Robin_!"

He sat up straight and nearly toppled over. Clark put his hand on his shoulder to steady him, but Conner turned desperate eyes toward him.

"Robin was hurt! He-he nearly drowned!" Conner glanced around him as if he expected the younger boy to suddenly appear out of the sand. "Where? H-How is he? He was sick. Pneumonia, I think . . . H-He would cough . . . a lot. . . . Is he okay?"

"I heard he went searching for a cabin to bring you some medicine. Of the two of you, I think you were the sicker one," Clark told him.

Conner's eyes widened with alarm. "No! No . . . I don't matter! I told him not to go! It was too far and the weather was too cold. Robin was too _sick_ to go hiking in that! He _promised_ me he wouldn't leave!"

 _Conner thought he didn't matter_? Clark frowned. _How had Superman contributed to that idea_? he wondered. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"He obviously felt like you were worse off than he was," Clark began.

Conner was shaking his head. "No, no . . . You don't understand! Robin almost died! And he's so little . . . At least, tell me he's alright now. Please?"

"You seem to care a lot about Robin," Clark said, experimentally. He admitted he was fishing.

"Well, um . . . yeah! He was my little brother . . . for the mission, you know? Batman _trusted_ me! I can't let him down."

Clark's eyebrows rose in surprise. It sounded like Conner had taken his role of big brother to heart. "I wish I had news to tell you," he admitted ruefully. "You were so sick when we arrived that I just swept you up and brought you here. But I'm sure that Batman, Green Arrow, and Black Canary managed to find them and take them back to the Watchtower."

"You don't know?"

Damn . . . Just when he had decided to do better by the boy, he was going to disappoint him again. He could contact the League but if his teammates weren't doing well, Clark didn't want to have to tell him here. Better to wait until they reached the Watchtower where he might have some extra support.

"I'm sorry, Conner. I don't. Not yet, anyway," he said.

Conner looked at the sand in front of him and bit his lip. His forehead crinkled in worry.

"D-Do you know about Roy and Artemis?" he asked quietly. "We got separated after the baggage car derailed. We had no way to contact them . . . Robin . . ." Conner licked his dry lips. "I think he thought they had . . . I don't know . . . died, maybe?"

Clark's eyes widened. Artemis had said he had spoken with her but it was obvious that the boy had no memory of doing so. He must have been delirious when that conversation had occurred.

"Artemis and Roy had found the shack sometime after Robin had left for the cabin. Artemis was with you when we arrived. Roy, the biologist said, had left to go after Robin." Clark informed him.

"Roy and Artemis are alive? Safe?" Conner smiled, looking hopeful.

"Artemis . . . appeared to be doing quite well, I would say," Clark murmured. "She seems to be full of spark and vinegar."

Conner laughed at the observation. It was the first time that Clark had seen the boy smile, let alone laugh.

"She can be feisty," Conner agreed with a relieved grin. "You should see her and KF go at it. They are always arguing about something."

"KF?" Robin sometimes used that nickname for the junior speedster.

"Oh, um . . . Kid Flash." Conner said quickly, misconstruing the question. "So, you think that Batman and the others . . . that they got to Robin and Roy in time?"

These last three days had been no picnic for the team of four but, still, Robin and Roy were both tough and quite resourceful. Batman seldom failed at anything so important and Superman knew that nothing was more important to Bruce than family. He would do anything for his boy and that included, Clark suspected, the formation of the Young Justice team in the first place.

He had often wondered if Bruce would have gone so far to support this had Dick not wanted it so badly. It was something that the man refused to admit to, however, but he didn't have to. Those who knew the man, who had ever met and witnessed the relationship of Batman and Robin behind the masks, there was no question to why Batman threw his support into establishing a special group of teenaged heroes. Bruce claimed it was all about training the next generation of heroes and taking the teens to the next level through teamwork and specially chosen missions. Clark would merely smile . . . Whatever helped the man sleep.

"Do you think Batman would fail at anything he set his mind to?" Clark asked rather than answer the question straight out.

Calm settled over the boy. "No sir," Conner said. "No, he wouldn't."

Amazing that Batman always managed to inspire that kind of confidence in everyone he met. That he was one of the very few non-superpowered heroes in the League didn't seem to affect anyone's faith in the man's ability to get things done. If it really came down to who the other League members thought was the real power behind the Justice League, him or Batman, Clark wasn't sure Superman would win, no matter that he was considered the powerhouse of the metas.

"I'm sure they found them in time," Clark admitted carefully.

Conner was looking better. The mark from the laser rifle had continued fading until it was all but gone. A faint discoloration was all that remained. Clark moved to take another look at the gash in the boy's thigh. It had been an hour already since he had brought the boy here. Surely it had healed up by now.

"Why are you here?" Conner interrupted him.

Clark met his gaze. "I thought we established that already."

"No," Conner shook his head. "I mean you told me the reason you brought me here but you never told me why?"

Clark frowned in confusion. "You were deathly ill, Conner. I knew bringing you here would help to reverse whatever had been done to you and strengthen you again."

Conner pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled and staggered, nearly tumbling down the sand dune they had been sitting on. Superman rose up quickly and steadied him again.

"Are you sure you're up for this? Maybe you should sit back down and take it easy for a few minutes longer," Clark suggested. It was obvious the boy hadn't regained his strength yet.

He was a little concerned over how long it was actually taking Conner to recover. Fifteen minutes was the most Clark had ever needed to be back to full strength in most circumstances. Only with Parasite had it taken him an entire day. This weapon's power was astronomical if it could do this to Conner. He glanced down at the wound. It had closed up finally but the scar remained.

"Why?" Conner asked again a little desperately. "Why are you here with me?"

"Conner . . ."

"Who told you?" Conner barked next.

"What?"

The boy was turning a little emotional. Briefly, Clark's theory about his emotional maturity flashed through his head. Was this the temper tantrum he had been expecting? The desert was the perfect place for it. He stiffened in preparation.

 _It shouldn't be too difficult_. _He's hardly fit to stand_ , Clark decided.

" _My name_!" Conner yelled. "Y-You _never_ cared enough to learn it! Someone would have had to have told you. Who was it?"

"Batman," Clark answered reluctantly. "Batman told me."

" _Why are you here_? Why did you do this for me?" Conner repeated again.

Clark was getting a little frustrated himself. "I told _you_ , you were dying . . ."

Conner turned away from him. His leg threatened to give out on him. Clark stepped forward, prepared to catch him if he fell but this time Conner found his balance and compensate for the weakened limb.

"Stop," Conner said angrily. "Just stop, if you're only going to lie to me."

"I'm not ly-"

"Yes! You are!" Conner interrupted through gritted teeth. He swung around and Clark was aghast to discover tears streaking down the boy's face. "Ever since you found out about me, you wished I would go away. You wished that I had never _existed_ ," he snarled, his hands fisted.

"This was your _chance_! I was _dying_! You could have ended this for the both of us if you had just taken me to the North Pole where it stays dark all winter long." Conner voice rose again. "No one would have had to know. You could have just told them that I couldn't be saved and then everything would have just gone back to normal. We both know I was never meant to . . ." his voice cracked, ". . . to be."

"Conner . . ." Clark was shocked.

" _I'm an abomination_!" The boy's head fell and his shoulders shook as the tears began in earnest.

Clark blinked. "What? No . . ."

" _I am_! I am . . . o-or you wouldn't have h-hated me so much."

"I never hated . . ."

" _Don't lie to me_!" Conner shrieked at him. "I didn't _ask_ to be created! When the others rescued me from Cadmus, Kaldur told me I didn't have to be a weapon that could be used against you . . . H-He said that I deserved freedom to live my life, but I recognized that for the lie it was. Kaldur was trying to save their asses. I don't blame him for that . . .

"But then, he asked me what _you_ would do . . . What _S-Superman_ would do! And I knew you would save them. And from the moment I learned of your existence, all I ever wanted was to be like _you_! A hero . . . Someone you could be p-proud of and, maybe . . . I don't know . . . maybe, y-you could have learned to lo-lo . . . _like_ me one day."

The boy turned away, his shoulders slumped, the epitome of misery.

"But you never did," he said softly. "No matter what I did, how hard I tried to make it right . . . nothing was ever good enough to make you lo- . . . like me. That's when I knew that if I couldn't get a hero like Superman to ac-accept me . . . then I had to be a lost cause.

"I realized that in the shack," he said, "when Robin first talked about going after the antibiotics. I-I tried to talk him out of it. I knew this was my one chance to . . . to do what I've always wanted to do."

Conner turned his head back to look at Clark. "To make it right."

* * *

 _Oh God_! Clark rubbed a hand across his mouth to cover his shock. He thought Artemis had managed to make him feel guilty. But what she had said to him . . . It was nothing compared to the horror that filled Clark now.

Conner had really _thought_ this? All . . . Clark swallowed hard, all because _Superman_ couldn't pull his head out of his ass and accept that he had a clone . . . _No_! he thought vehemently. _Not a clone_! _A child_ . . . That was what Conner was. It didn't matter how he came into existence, the boy was his own flesh and blood!

The likelihood that Clark would ever have a child of his own by conventional means were practically non-existent. That he was standing here looking at that child now was nothing short of a miracle! If ever Clark was to get a chance to become a father . . . Here was his chance and he was blowing it!

Conner was, for all intents and purposes, _his_ child . . . His _son_!

The realization didn't bring him joy, however. He had a son and all Clark had managed to accomplish, in less than a year, was to make the boy want to die. _Dear God, why hadn't Bruce pulled out that kryptonite ring I gave him and beat some sense into me before it came to this_?

"You're _not_ a mistake to be made right," Clark said. It was a little difficult to speak around the lump in his throat. "There was never anything wrong with you."

He took a step forward, close enough to touch the boy but he held back. Conner looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Then _why_? Why couldn't you love me?" the boy cried out.

And there it was . . . What the boy wanted more than anything else in the world . . . Clark's love. Could he give it?

He would try. He would try, and be grateful for the opportunity. From what he understood, he was lucky that his boy turned out so well, no thanks to him.

"I'm sorry, Conner," he started. "I've been a real ass about this, and you deserved none of it. Of everyone involved, you were more the victim than anyone. You weren't to blame."

* * *

Conner's eyes dropped and he nodded. It was the best he could hope for and more than he deserved. Superman was apologizing to him for ignoring him, for actively avoiding him for these past four months. It wasn't everything but it was something and maybe, if Superman were willing to come around a little more often, he might learn to like Conner someday.

"You weren't to blame. I was," Superman continued.

Conner looked up, startled. "You? But you didn't . . ."

Superman held up his hand. It was apparently his turn to interrupt. "Not for your creation, obviously, but for everything else. I'll admit I was shocked and felt violated. They found and used my blood without my consent but that is no excuse for the way I've treated you for the past four months."

Superman placed his hand on Conner's shoulder then. The boy glanced at it and back up at the hero himself.

"I realize now that you had a lot to deal with and, as the adult, I should have stepped up to my responsibility to you but I did not. I failed you."

Conner blinked. He shook his head. "No. No . . . You didn't fail! If I had only . . ."

Superman placed his other hand lightly over Conner's mouth and the boy fell silent immediately.

"I failed you, Conner. I alone. Not you," Superman corrected. "You've succeeded wildly, however, in my absence. The other mentors stepped into the gap I left, and your teammates? You must be doing something right because they love you. They like and respect you. And I can tell you, those kids aren't easy to impress . . . but you've managed it."

Conner tilted his head in surprise. "Th-They do?" He rubbed his neck, feeling awkward. _What does someone say to something like that_? "I guess . . ."

"Trust me, son, they really do care about you," Superman told him and then hesitated before continuing. "And I do, too."

Conner's mouth dropped open. He didn't think his eyes could get any wider.

"I couldn't be prouder of the job you've done so far. And I would appreciate the chance to get to know you better," Superman smiled at him . . . _HIM_! "To be the mentor you deserve, if that is, you will have me. What do say, Conner? Are you willing to forgive me and give me a chance to make this right with you?"

For a moment, Conner couldn't move. His heart was in his throat! Was this real or was he still in the midst of a delirium brought on by the fever? But the heavy hand on his shoulder felt real enough. Before he realized what he was going to do and could stop himself, Conner crossed the distance and threw his arms around Superman's waist and squeezed him for all he was worth.

Some of his strength must have come back because he heard Superman grunt lightly. Then those thick, muscular arms wrapped around him in return and held him, just . . . held him, and it was enough. No, more than enough . . . It was everything! Everything Conner had ever hoped for, ever dreamed of.

He didn't want this moment to ever end.

But, of course, it had to.

Several minutes later, Superman cleared his throat. "How are you feeling now?"

Swallowing hard, Conner released him and stepped back, running his arm across his damp eyes. His smile was kind of watery but Superman didn't' sneer. He looked a little uncomfortable, but not disapproving.

"Better now," Conner admitted. He was still sore and tired and a little light-headed but Conner felt better now than he could ever remember feeling. "A lot better. Thanks."

The words couldn't convey everything he meant but Superman searched his face and, though Conner couldn't be sure, he thought perhaps the Man of Steel had understood anyway.

"I'm sure you would like to get back and check on your teammates," Superman said. "I promised Batman that, once you were well enough, we'd meet them at the Watchtower."

Conner was smiling widely but then what Superman had said sunk in. His smile faltered. He glanced around them. "Um, how do we get there from here?"

"We can fly."

Biting his lip, Conner ducked his head, embarrassed. "I-I can't fly," he admitted. "I don't have heat vision and my X-ray vision is almost non-existent. It comes and goes and isn't very reliable. I don't have freeze-breath either. It's more like kind-of-cold breath." He winced as he listed all of his faults, perking up only a second later. "But my hearing is really good! I can hear whispered conversations up to a mile away . . . It's get hard to deal with when I'm trying to sleep. Sometimes it can give me a headache but watching snow on TV helps. The static drowns out the noise, giving me a break."

Superman grimaced with him. "I totally get what you mean. I remember that it used to drive me crazy when I was about your age. I can give you some ear plugs that might help until I can teach you how to dial it down a bit."

"You can do that? Turn it down, I mean?" Conner gaped at him.

"Sure," Superman smiled. "It's a meditative technique I learned a long time ago. Eventually, though, you'll be able to turn it up or down without having to think about it. It will just be there or not when you need it to."

The smile Conner gave next was one of pure relief. "That would be . . . Oh wow! I'd really appreciate that."

"Say no more. If you are feeling up to it later, I can show you a little something to get you started," Superman assured him. "Now, about the Watchtower. The safest way would be to fly you to the nearest zeta-tube. I assume you can hold your breath as long as I can but I'd prefer to test you before taking the risk of flying you directly there."

"Y-You can fly in space?" _No way_ . . .

The Man of Steel looked a little sheepish. "It isn't as easy as it sounds. I can handle the extreme cold temperatures of space for short periods of time as well as the heat of reentry but I have the same trouble breathing in a vacuum as anyone else. We need at least some oxygen to survive but in an emergency, I can hold my breath for the time it takes to get from the Watchtower to earth or from here to the Watchtower. A lot of it depends on where the tower is located in its orbit and my speed."

"Whoa." _That was beyond cool_ . . .

Superman looked at him concerned. "We should probably test a few things, actually. I wasn't flying until I was eighteen, almost nineteen. Before that I had to jump or run long distances. The X-vision thing started occurring naturally when I was about your age. My heat vision took the longest . . . I was well into my twenties before that kicked in."

Conner gaped. "Y-You mean it's possible that I could still develop those abilities? I thought I would never be able to fly or do some of the other things that you do."

"That's my fault," Superman admitted. "I haven't been there to talk to you about any of this. Why would you believe that you wouldn't develop these abilities eventually?"

Conner shrugged. "I don't know. I just figured I was a faulty. I know that I have some human DNA mixed in with my Kryptonian DNA. I thought that might have something to do with it."

Superman nodded. "I could see how you might think that but Kryptonian DNA is always dominant. This is why testing would be helpful. I suppose it might be possible that it could limit some of your abilities but I don't see how it could block some of them but not the others." He picked up his cape and shook out the sand. "It's something that we'll look into . . . together."

The goofy smile was back but Conner couldn't help it. He didn't do capes and tights but when Superman wrapped the cape around him . . . well, that was kind of cool.

"We'll head back to the Mountain and take the zeta-tube to the Watchtower. That way you can find a change in clothes before we show up there," Superman winked at him, "Wouldn't want to shock the ladies."

Conner glanced down at his light blue boxers and blushed. "Yeah, that might be a good idea," he agreed.

"Um, Superman? I-I wanted to . . ." Conner stammered to a halt and started again. "Thank you," he said simply. "I promise I won't disappoint you."

Superman pursed his mouth, frowning. Conner gulped.

"You won't disappoint me, Conner, and you are doing me the favor," Superman told him seriously. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Anything," he said eagerly.

"You don't have to call me Superman when we're alone. My name is Clark," Superman said to him. "You can call me Clark unless or until you find another title more suitable to use."

"Like what?" Conner tilted his head, confused.

Clark tucked the ends of his cape around Conner and picked him up like a child, holding across his body in a cradle hold.

"We have plenty of time to decide that. We can talk about it," Clark assured him as his boots lifted off of the sandy dune. "In fact, there are a lot of things I'd like a chance to discuss with you."

That he couldn't hold on when Superman, um, Clark, took off flying didn't make Conner nervous at all. It didn't even occur to him that he needed to. Clark wouldn't drop him. You didn't save someone that you liked, after all, and you didn't drop someone you thought had value.

Conner settled in and enjoyed the rush! The day couldn't get better than this and if he had to almost die in order to reach this point, Conner decided, it was totally worth it!

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **No really . . . I want to know! I was very pleased with how this turned out and now Clark and Conner have a shot!**

 **I know some of you like them to have more of a brotherly bond but honestly, Clark is supposed to be 33 here. That's a stretch for a sibling relationship when one has no parents or cannot remember their parents. I cannot see Conner _not_ looking up to Clark as a father figure, personally. A lot of older siblings had been forced to raise a younger brother or sister, and when the difference in ages is so large, many of those younger siblings see the elder as a parental figure. Can you say "Daddy Clark"?**

 **Now to see everyone reunited at last . . . And remember to FAVE it if you love it! ;D**


	32. The Watchtower

**Warning: Some Language . . .**

* * *

"Will you be alright?"

Conner slid between the cool sheets and shivered. Despite his time in the Sahara with Superman, he still wasn't one hundred percent. To be truthful, he was quite a ways off yet to feeling normal . . . but he wasn't dying anymore and that had to count for something.

He looked up at Supe . . . ah, Clark, he corrected himself again. He looked up at Clark hovering over him with obvious concern. It felt surreal after four months of the man avoiding his presence; it was like a strange but sort of wonderful dream. Unfortunately, Conner didn't know exactly how to act around the man. He had already acted like an idiot and blubbered all over him like a child so he figured that was the reason his Kryptonian counterpart was now treating him with kid gloves.

He had been confused and stressed out when he had woken up, however. He had been in a strange new place and had been feeling like he had still been standing in Death's doorway at the time. It didn't seem too unreasonable that he might have been a little emotionally out of his depth. Unfortunately, Conner had a feeling that he was going to regret acting on that temporary weakness.

"I'm a lot better now," he told Clark softly so as to not wake up the others. "I don't really need to stay here in the medical bay." If it was a slight exaggeration, so what? Conner knew he wasn't going to keel over anymore.

"I know that but it would make me feel better knowing you were nearby in case there continue to be side effects," Clark tugged the covers over him. "And, at least here, you'd be able to keep an ear out for your teammates should they need something."

There was that . . . But Conner glanced over at the dark silent shadow sitting next to Robin's bed.

"Batman is here if Robin needs anything and Roy . . ." Well, Conner wasn't sure about Roy or Artemis but they had glimpsed Green Arrow and Black Canary right outside in the hallway on their way in. "What's happened to Roy?"

While he should be concerned for Roy's injuries, and he was, mostly he was just thrilled that he and Artemis weren't dead. He was curious as to where they had been and how they had survived without someone like Old Oily to look out from them. Again, the rough and tumbled biologist crossed his mind since awakening in the desert without a clue as to what had happened to him and his team. He hadn't even gotten the chance to thank the man for everything he had done.

Clark tilted his head and listened. Conner was surprised to discover that he couldn't hear the conversation going on just a few feet away through a closed door. He could hear mumbling, could tell someone was talking but the words were indistinct yet and he couldn't make them out. This was the closest thing to silence that he had experienced since . . . Well, since ever! At the shack, Robin would talk or cough, Cecil would chitter or bark, and Ramón, if he wasn't talking, would be rocking in that creaky, rocking chair. The wind would howl or whistle, trees would scratch at the building. There was always something to hear.

Now, other than the slight murmuring, people breathing, and the hum of the O2 concentrator next to Robin, it was quiet.

"He lost a lot of blood," Clark said, frowning at the IVs still in place. He looked over at Batman. "Are you awake?"

Batman answered. "I am."

"What happened? If I had known . . ." Clark began.

"You still would have left with Conner. Just as you _should_ have," Batman interrupted. "Conner's your priority now. His life was on the line and you had no other choice but to take him where he could heal and become stronger."

Conner sat up and he could see thick, heavy bandages covering Roy's arms. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell that they were stained dark in some places. A phantom pain shot up from his own healing wound at the reminder that he, too, had been severely injured. He squirmed and rubbed a hand over the spot. Even through the covers and the cotton pajamas he wore now, Conner could feel the scar tissue.

"Was he attacked by an animal or something?" Conner asked.

" _They_ were."

Conner's head whipped around. "Artemis?" He looked to where the blonde archer slept in the bed next to Roy's but couldn't see with the covers pulled up to her ears.

"Other than a mild strain and some bumps and bruises, Artemis is fine," Batman assured him.

If Artemis was okay, that left . . . Conner shoved back the covers, making to get up. Clark laid a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

"Robin?" Conner gasped, his eyes searching for bandages on the smaller boy but anything he had was covered by a hospital gown. "He went to the cabin, didn't he? I told him not to bother but . . . What did this? How?"

"They were attacked by a mountain lion as they neared the cliff on their return," Batman confirmed quietly. He leaned over and tugged up the blanket over the bandages that Robin wore. "Of the wounds inflicted, Roy's were the worst, but Robin, too, had his share."

"They were injured because of _me_ , weren't they?" Conner scowled and looked down at his fists. The familiar rush of anger was back but this time it was directed at himself.

Batman stood up and walked to the foot of the bed. "From the way I understand it, Robin made the decision to go on his own against yours and Ramón's advice. Roy made the choice to go after him. Whosever fault it is, it would not be _yours_."

"But if I hadn't . . ." he began, choking with the sudden surge of emotion.

Batman stopped him with the simple gesture of laying a gloved palm over his other shoulder. "Conner, stop . . . You don't want go there, son. That road only leads you to hell. It's a hole you can never fully climb out of. This not _your_ fault."

Clark squeezed his shoulder gently. "No one blames you for anything, Conner, and you shouldn't either."

"You need to lie back down," Batman told him.

"I'm not sleepy," Conner argued as he tried to breathe through the volatile emotions like Black Canary had shown him once.

"Then just rest," Batman said firmly. He looked at Clark. "Dr. Mid-Nite and J'onn wanted to talk to us. I'm sure he has questions about the tests he had planned for Conner tomorrow."

Superman nodded and moved to follow.

"If Robin needs anything, I can trust you to come and get me?" Batman asked the boy. "We will be right on the other side of those doors."

Conner nodded and waited until they left the room before he lay back. The gash on his thigh was a lot better but he was embarrassed to mention it was still uncomfortable to lie on it. Although it had closed on its own in the sun, the wound had scarred. He wasn't sure how long it would take to finally go away but he didn't want to complain anymore, not when Robin and Roy were so badly hurt . . . because of him.

No matter what Batman and Superman told him, Conner knew that neither would have been on the escarpment if they hadn't been worried for Conner's life. It all boiled down to his actions on the train but he had had no way to know that the weapon that Sportsmaster and Cheshire were transporting was made to strip Kryptonian powers. He spent several long moments going around and around in his own head before his sighed heavily.

Batman was right . . . His guilt was quickly turning into a pit; an ever-widening, ever-deepening pit. His own personal version of hell.

Roy must be loaded up with pain killers now because he hadn't twitched at all during the conversation. Conner couldn't really see Robin well from his position but he could hear him. Even with an oxygen mask and an O2 concentrator helping him, the younger boy's breathing sounded wet and labored. The rhythmic sound was punctuated every so often with a thick cough. His pneumonia had obviously gotten much worse over the course of the previous day.

Over the next several minutes, Conner listened to Robin's coughs increase as did his trouble breathing. Worried, he sat up and glanced in the direction of the door leading to the hallway. Should he interrupt the adults?

Robin whimpered and seemed to draw into himself. Remembering how he helped the boy breathe at the shack, Conner pushed back the covers and moved to stand next to his bed to check on him. He winced at the new bruises he could see marring Robin's face. Memories of pain his own injuries had inflicted on him made him newly sympathetic to the younger boy's plight. The poor kid . . .

Decision made, Conner slid an arm beneath Robin's shoulders and shifted him. He raised the head of the bed slightly higher than it had been and then climbed in next to the younger boy. Shifting him as gently as he was able, mindful of the boy's latest injuries, Conner carefully propped Robin against his chest and covered them both with the blanket. As had happened at the shack, Robin's breathing eased and his coughing slowed.

"Nais . . . Conner," Robin whispered.

"You're welcome," he answered softly and closed his eyes. They popped back open a second later when Conner realized that Robin had just thanked him in another language.

That was odd. He wondered briefly if he should be concerned but decided that since the comment had made sense, he'd let it go for now. He could ask Batman about it when he came back in to check on him.

Robin was warm. He was obviously struggling with a fever but the extra heat felt good to Conner. It seemed like the cold over that last few days had permeated his bones. The comforting weight of the younger boy was reassuring. Certainly Conner would know immediately if the Robin's condition grew worse from this position. Sighing, Conner closed his eyes once more and let the warmth lull him into sleep.

* * *

"Looks like you're not needed after all, old man," Ollie whispered.

"Who are you calling old, Arrow," Batman growled, quietly, however, so as not to wake the room's occupants. "You're the same age as I am."

"Ah, ah, not true. I'm a year younger than you," Ollie smirked. "Conner looks like he's got this covered."

"Aw, that's so adorable," Dinah cooed softly. "You know, Ramón said that the boys took care of each other like real brothers while they were there."

Bruce glared at her. "They're boys, Dinah. They're _not_ adorable," he muttered in defense of the boys' masculinity.

She smiled at him. "Come on, just _look_ at them! You don't think that's sweet?"

Batman grunted as he took in the tableau in front of them. He had to admit, Robin was breathing easier for being propped up more. He had heard his son coughing from the hallway and had been about to excuse himself to come back in then, except that the coughs had begun to ease dramatically. _This_ was apparently the reason why.

"You should use the opportunity to get some rest yourself, Bruce," Dinah told him. "Robin looks like he's in good hands."

He shook his head. "I'll need to wake him up in an hour or so," he reminded her.

"Then at least go shower and change into another uniform," Ollie suggested, "and grab something to eat first. Robin's painkillers only just kicked in a little while ago. Give him a chance to rest."

"He has a concussion, Arrow."

Ollie planted a hand on Bruce's shoulder, ignoring the glare sent his way. The man was purposely being obtuse. "I know but the kid's exhausted. This isn't unconsciousness, Bruce, it is sleep and Robin needs as much of it as he can get."

Superman stepped in as Ollie and Dinah walked away to get their own rest. He paused at Bruce's shoulder and frowned. "Where's Conner?"

Bruce slapped his chest with the back of his hand and nodded at Robin's bed. "Sh! You're going to wake them."

"What . . .? Why did he do that?" Clark stared at the two boys in the other bed sleeping peacefully, even Conner. "He said he wasn't sleepy before we left," he smirked.

"He's a kid, Clark. Remember what that's like?" Bruce asked him. "He is obviously still recovering but didn't want to miss anything by falling asleep. Dick still complains when I take him back to the Batcave that he isn't tired but he inevitably falls asleep before we get there at least half of the time."

"What time would you bring him in?"

"Early on, when he was younger and just starting out, around ten and then eleven as he grew older. Alfred wanted him back and in bed by midnight. Although sometimes it couldn't be helped, there were very few exceptions to that rule. Even Dick hates to deal with an angry, fussy butler," Batman's lips twitched. "That changed this year when he turned thirteen. On weekends, he's allowed to stay out sometimes til two. And, of course, things have changed necessarily with the advent of the team but, for the most part, no one likes to upset Alfred."

Clark nodded. "Conner shouldn't require much in the way of sleep if he's anything like me."

"Did your parents let you stay up late when you were his age?" Bruce asked.

Clark snorted and grinned.

"Quiet," Bruce warned.

"Sorry, but to answer your question, no! Ma would have had a fit. I had to at least go to bed and _try_ to sleep by a certain time. I could remain up, however, if that didn't work as long as I stayed in the house and was quiet. She said that boys that would stay out all night were destined to be up to no good." Clark looked at his companion. "Then I met _you_ one night and discovered she was right!"

"Ha-ha . . ." Bruce tightened his lips to hide his smile. Clark's mother was a force to be reckoned with. Although she was a tiny woman compared to her son, she was easily as intimidating as Alfred when riled up.

"Funny thing was, that for the most part, more times than not really, I would end up falling asleep. Next thing you knew, Barney would be waking me up and it was morning and time for chores." Clark's smile softened at the memories.

"Barney?"

"The rooster," Clark told him. "He woke me for several years while I was in high school."

Bruce tore his eyes from where his son slept almost peacefully, he didn't miss the tension lines around the boy's mouth indicating discomfort despite the painkillers he had finally been allowed. He looked at Clark.

"You named your rooster Barney?" he asked in mild amusement.

Clark shrugged. "After Barney Fife. You know, from the Andy Griffith show. The rooster liked to puff up his chest and strut around like he was important just like the deputy on the show would." At the look from Bruce, Clark shook his head. "Let me guess. You never watched those old reruns."

"Alfred didn't approve of most of the shows on television, and I was usually too busy studying to bother," Bruce admitted. "It was a cop show?"

"That's too bad," Clark told him. "The show was pretty good, but no, you couldn't really call it a cop show although the main character was a sheriff." He reconsidered a moment, then added, "Growing up in a big city, you might not have appreciated the small town charm."

Bruce grunted, then moved over to the bed to check the machine. Everything was working properly, of course. He trusted Dr. Mid-Nite for the most part but this was Dick, his son. Bruce trusted Leslie to take care of Dick over anyone else but she also knew how he was around the boy. He would fuss and double-check everything she did and pour over the boy's chart as if he might catch something she had missed, something that might have still endangered the boy. Leslie had gotten used to Bruce's ways long ago.

It had only gotten worse since this summer when, in June, the adoption had finally gone through and Dick was now his permanently, no more worries from CPS. The celebration they had had the day it all became official flitted through his mind once again . . . for what must have been the thousandth time over the past three, no, four days now.

He noted the protective arm that Conner used to hold Dick in place. The boy had been careful, it seemed, avoiding putting pressure on Dick's broken ribs. Dinah was right. Dick was in good hands. Bruce had done chosen wisely when he had teamed these two up.

His stomach growled as he turned around. Slapping Superman on the shoulder, Bruce walked past him and Clark followed him out.

"Come on," Bruce told him. "I need a shower and to grab something to eat."

"Sounds like a plan," Clark agreed. "I'm in the mood for apple pie."

Bruce flicked an amused glance at the alien walking next to him. "I thought you didn't care for the pie they had here on the Watchtower."

"I don't," Clark smiled. "I thought I would go home while you showered and pick up some of Ma's pie. She always keeps one made for those times I get cravings. Do you think maybe Conner likes apple pie?"

"I can't imagine him sharing your DNA and not liking it," Bruce commented lightly.

It was interesting that just a day ago, Clark would have changed the subject or found an excuse to leave had Bruce brought up the young clone. Now, Batman had a feeling that it would be him that would find it necessary to change the subject or an excuse to leave the room after this.

As he watched Clark turn down the hallway that led off in the direction of the zeta tubes, Bruce couldn't help but think that it was about damned time.

* * *

Dr. Ramón Dupree, wildlife biologist, found himself staring through the immense windows, comprised of four panes of fused silica glass according to his red robotic tour-guide, at the awesome sight of a blue, white, and brown marble suspended on a black velvet background and surrounded by a glittering array of diamonds. Earth . . . He had never dreamt of seeing the planet he called home from space. He had never desired it, appreciating the beauty of nature up close and personal. But standing here now, he recognized the gift for what it was.

And it was _amazing_.

Cecil was scrabbling at the door again, the noise the fox made tearing his attention from the view. Ramón shook his head at the animal. The lively creature was merely biding its time until it could escape yet again and make his way to the medical bay to check on the boys, Robin and Conner. His red robotic tour-guide had brought it back to him three times in the hours since he had been escorted here.

"You're not going to get to them unless them folks let you, you know," Ramón told him and patted his leg in an invitation. He sat in a comfortable upholstered armchair. Its homey fabric and style clashed with the ultra-modern feel of the observation deck. He didn't know where the tin-man who had been assigned to him upon arrival had found it but Ramón was grateful. It made passing the long night bearable.

Oh, sure, he had been offered a guest room when the initial excitement of their arrival had died down a bit. He had been just as worried as the young folk's rescuers, however, and had found himself escorted here.

Cecil snuffled at the door one more time before giving up and racing back to his person of choice. The little fox leapt onto Ramón's lap and curled up in a ball, finally settling down with a large huff of disgust. Once the fox was settled, Ramón returned his attention back to the view. One didn't see the earth from this angle every day after all.

He was a little disappointed that he wasn't floating like he had seen them astronauts do back in the day. He hadn't envied them although he had been a little curious. Keeping his feet on the ground was more his style and Ramón preferred them to be wearing hiking boots and tromping around in the woods when he did it.

He was cuddling Cecil in his arms, scratching the nervous fox behind its large sensitive ears when the door finally slid open and the tin-man entered.

"Would you or your pet like something to eat or drink?" Robo-Guide asked him.

Ramón remembered that the robot hero was called Red Tornado and that he was officially the 'den-mother' to the young people he had met over the last few days but the biologist was a lover of life and uncomfortable with the mechanical man with his computerized brain. It was easier for him to deal with what he was seeing when he gave to robot a pet name as he did with all of the other lunatics running around on this flying tub.

"We're fine for now, although I would like to get an update on the boys and their friends, if you don't mind," Ramón turned to look at his host. The robot had only eye slits so he could only assume that it was looking at him.

"I will endeavor to retrieve that information for you," Robo-Guide informed him. "Although I have just been made aware that visitors will be allowed this morning. I can escort you, if you wish to check on them personally."

"Is that so?" Ramón perked up at that. "Well now, that is right neighborly of you. Cecil and I would be most obliged."

"If you will follow me, I can take you now to see the team," Robo-Guide said politely, acceding to his wishes at last.

Maybe now he and Cecil could see for themselves how the boys' were fairing.

* * *

Conner sat on the bed watching Robin sleep while everyone talked softly around him. Roy was now awake and teasing Dinah and Artemis. The clone observed the difference in the two archers with amusement. On the train, it had been nothing but bickering and complaining to the point that Robin had to warn them that they were endangering the mission. Now, although the bantering continued, there were no hurt feelings or anger lacing the words. Conner didn't miss the occasional smile or easy laughter they would share.

He listened to Roy regal the group with a story about his having to dig Artemis out of the snow after she had set off a small avalanche. Amazingly, although Artemis blushed when Roy accounted for her panic, she didn't take offense. Artemis would have definitely taken offense only a few days ago.

"Are you sure you two are the same people that started this mission with Robin and me," Conner asked.

"What? You think we are pod people or something?" Artemis replied with a smirk.

He tilted his head, confused. "Pod people? Oh, you're talking about cloning."

As if realizing what she had said, Artemis bit her lip. "Oh . . . Ah, I'm sorry, Conner. It was a reference to an old movie. I didn't mean to . . ." she tapered off helplessly.

It was odd, but Conner didn't' feel offended or hurt. Was this what it was like to feel accepted? People could joke about painful things and suddenly it no longer hurt? He thought that maybe he could enjoy living like that. M'gann touched his arm, however, worried.

 _Are you alright_? She thought at him.

Conner looked at her and smiled a little. _Yeah_ , he assured her. And, surprisingly, he was. _I'm good_.

 _I think maybe you really are_ , M'gann agreed. "What happened out there?" she asked aloud

Conner shrugged. "You can learn all about it once I'm debriefed _,_ " _but there's a lot more to it than that. I'll tell you about it when we are finally back at the mountain_.

 _I was really worried when I found out that Superman had flown away with you_ , she told him psychically. _I heard that you almost died_?

Conner took M'gann's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Later," he reminded her.

"But that little bit of snow was nothing compared to the avalanche that Robin set off while climbing that cliff," Roy laughed, shaking his head.

"How can you laugh at that?" Artemis gaped. "That was terrifying! It fell directly over top of where he was clinging to the side of that cliff. I can't believe he managed to survive that."

Conner glanced over at them. "Cliff? What avalanche?"

"Oh, that's right," Artemis said. "You were completely out of it when this happened. You were doing your best to scare the heck out of us, too, you know."

" _Me_? What did I do?"

"You said _goodbye_ to me, Conner!" Artemis shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. "You gave me messages to take to everyone! And then you compounded your sin by actually trying to _die_ on me." She looked away briefly, blinking rapidly. "Thank God the League arrived when they did because Ramón and I couldn't save you."

Conner swallowed. Superman had said it had been close. Seeing Artemis' reaction brought that home better than anything.

"I-I'm sorry," he told her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

She sighed and glanced over at him. "Yeah, well . . . just don't do it again."

A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "I promise."

Roy, uncharacteristically, reached out and rubbed the blonde archer's back. "You okay?"

Artemis nodded and smiled again. They were all safe and sound now . . . She looked up at the silent boy across the aisle and her smile faded a bit. Well, most of them.

"I will be if Robin will be okay" she said worriedly.

Robin had been in and out of it all morning. The fact that he occasionally woke up on his own should have been reassuring except he would need to be reminded every now and then to speak in English. Only Conner or Batman seemed to understand him, or M'gann, but only if she read Robin's mind. In the boy's state of confusion, the Martian girl preferred not to do that unless she had to. M'gann had described it as making her feel a little dizzy. Batman had suggested that the dizziness might be her reaction to Robin's concussion. Artemis had asked once what language he was speaking but Conner tried to avoid the question since Batman hadn't seemed inclined to answer.

It was about that moment that a small white blur scrabbled across the tiled floor and leapt toward the bed containing Robin. It happened so quickly that only Kid Flash had the reaction time capable of catching the furball in mid-air. He managed to do it just above Robin's sleeping form.

"Whoa, there, little buddy," Wally called out as the fox wiggled and tried desperately to leap from his arms. Wally struggled to hold on the squirming bundle. "You can't go jumping on him right now. Hold on! Whoa . . . _Hey_!"

The fox scrambled up Wally's chest and onto his shoulder in his bid to escape. Spotting another familiar face, Cecil leaped again, this time reaching his intended goal as Conner caught the animal in his arms.

"Hey, Cecil! What are you doing here, buddy?" Conner grinned broadly at the sight of the little, white fox. Cecil twisted and turned in Conner's arms in his excitement but made no attempt to escape. He chittered happily to see one of his new friends. "Hold still and I'll scratch your belly," he laughed with delight.

Cecil, understanding the two most important words, ' _scratch_ ' and ' _belly_ ' quickly rolled over and rumbled in pleasure as the clone's fingers hit all the right spots. When Conner looked back at his audience, they were gaping at him.

"What?" he asked worriedly.

"He likes you," Wally stammered.

"Yeah, well, he slept with Robin and I for the last few days," Conner shrugged, a slight blush staining his cheeks. "I guess he grew fond of us in that time."

"You guess?" Wally smiled at the adoring fox. "You know, I don't know if I've ever heard you laugh before."

Conner smiled at the ball of fluff. Cecil scrambled up onto his shoulder and draped himself around his neck. He lay there contentedly.

"Cecil makes it easy," he answered as he rubbed the fox's big ears.

"Ah, I see he's finally found you," Ramón's booming voice interrupted. "He's been struggling to find you two for the last twelve hours."

Conner's smile softened but was no less genuine when he saw who their visitor was. He stood up and walked directly into the scruffy fellow's open arms, shocking everyone who knew of the prickly clone's standoffish nature.

"I'm so happy to see you again," Conner sighed, holding onto the biologist. "I wanted to thank you for everything you did to help us," he told the older man sincerely.

Ramón laughed and slapped the boy on his back gently. "I'm just happy to see you up and walking around on your own two feet for once. You had me a little worried there for a while."

"That's what I've been hearing," Conner smiled. "Sorry that I was so much trouble."

"I think I need to get me some of whatever they gave you," Ramón grinned, ruffling the teen's hair affectionately. "I don't think I've ever seen such a miraculous recovery before."

"Sunshine," Conner told him. "Just what the doctor ordered."

"Huh, something we were in sore need of back at the shack. That explains why Robin was so adamant about moving you closer to the window," Ramón said, "not that it did much good with all that cloud cover."

He turned and gave Artemis a hug as well and shook Roy's hand.

"I see you ignored my warnings about the mountain lions," he said to the recuperating archer with entirely too much good humor. "But at least you won, eh?"

Roy managed a half smile as he lifted sore arms to show off his bandages. "I'm not sure I would call this winning."

"You're alive, ain't ya? Ain't no part of you digesting in that cat's belly," Ramón declared. "That, my young friend, is considered winning in my neck of the woods." He patted Roy's leg. "You were very, very lucky." He added this is a much softer, more sober, manner.

Roy blinked. "Yeah," he nodded slowly, his smile widening.

Roy remembered too well being pinned by the cougar with only his bow between them. He had felt the cat's breath on his face. Although the painkillers had numbed most of the pain from claw marks on his arms and thighs, the memory was there of his receiving them. Roy had been certain he was about to die at the time . . . Had it not been for Robin.

"I guess I am pretty lucky," he admitted. "Not so sure about Robin, though. He's still struggling."

Ramón turned to the bed that held the youngest of the group. His boisterous manner subsided as he moved in that direction. Batman stepped out of his way and allowed the backwoodsman room to see the boy.

"He's a stubborn one, isn't he?" Ramón murmured.

"That he is," Batman agreed.

The biologist looked at the boy helplessly. "There ain't no place safe left to touch him anymore," he said more to himself than to the company. He shook his head regretfully. "I should have done gone and sat on you, young'un. What the _hell_ were you thinking, climbing up a dad-blamed cliff?"

Batman laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Dr. Mid-Nite assured me that he should be fine with some bed rest. He's on a heavy dose of antibiotics now and his breathing has already improved over the course of the night."

Ramón turned to the man beside him. "He said he goes out and fights criminals with you."

Batman nodded. "He does. He has for several years now."

"How do you stand for it?" the older man asked. "How do you keep him safe?"

"I discovered a long time ago that I can't stop him once he has his mind set on something. So . . . I train him. I set rules. And I make sure he's surrounded by people who care about him as much as I do. Friends that look out for him whenever I can't." Batman told him quietly, his words for Dupree only.

Ramón glanced back at the other three teens. "You picked a mighty fine bunch, then. I've never seen that kind of caring and dedication in the folks I left behind."

He grinned suddenly and turned back to the Bat-fellow. "I have to admit," he said now in a normal tone of voice, "I was a little worried about what had become of civilization while I had been gone when I saw what all barged into my shack. But, despite some questionable wardrobe choices, I can see that the world is in good hands."

A second of silence greeted his proclamation until Green Arrow started laughing.

"Oh, come on," Ollie laughed. "Look at us! The man admitted he hadn't been out in the woods since the early nineties, and then we show up at his place looking like a cross between a circus, a renaissance fair, and Halloween. It's a damned wonder that he didn't shoot us on sight."

Clark frowned. "I assume you are referring to my costume when speaking of circuses."

Green Arrow laughed harder. "Some face paint is all you'd need, Supey."

To Clark's surprise, Conner started laughing. The boy looked over at his friends.

"And _that's_ why you won't catch me ever wearing spandex and a cape," he snorted.

"You, too, Brutus?" Clark shook his head sadly.

It was clear that Conner had to struggle to contain his amusement. "It's a good look on you, though. I'm pretty sure that I'd never be able to pull it off as well as you." He blinked and began to sober. "Uh, did I hurt your feelings?" he asked in a whisper.

Clark grinned and ruffled the boy's hair like Ramón had before him. Cecil squawked at the Man of Steel, his hackles rising at the familiarity. Conner petted the agitated animal to calm him again.

"Easy there, Cecil," Conner murmured. "You could lose some teeth if you tried to bite Superman."

Ramón chuckled, unworried by his pet's antics. "Once he's taken to you, Cecil can get a might feisty around others."

"He does seem fond of Conner," Clark noted.

"He likes Robin even more," Conner admitted, "but that might be because of all the toys he knows Robin keeps in his belt."

Batman frowned. "Toys?"

Ramón snorted. "Them little marbles that young'un's got on him.

Conner laughed. "The fox knocked his belt on the floor and his smoke pellets went everywhere."

"Cecil managed to set them all rolling about the shack," Ramón told them. "I came back from checking traps to see smoke seeping from every corner of the shack. I thought the boys had set the place on fire while I was out. I opened the door to find my fox running after them little beads, happily pouncing on one and then the other while Robin scampered about on all fours trying to pick them up."

"He kept threatening to make a muff out of Cecil," Conner grinned.

"I still might," Robin croaked, awakened by the chatter and laughter around him. "Dratted fox," he muttered with affection.

* * *

Everyone smiled at seeing Robin, not only awake, but speaking sensibly and in the correct language without a prompt for the first time since the previous evening. Cecil, seeing Robin awake, tried again to leap for the younger boy. Conner snatched him out of the air this time. He carried the excited fox over to see his little broth – friend, he corrected himself a little sadly. He had enjoyed the closeness they had developed over the course of the mission.

Robin grinned as he stroked the fox's head. Cecil pawed the air helplessly as he struggled again to reach one of his favorite people.

"Easy, Cecil," Conner scolded gently. "He's been injured."

"Let me hold him, Conner?" Robin asked around a cough. "He won't hurt me."

Conner hesitated, glancing back at Batman. "May I? If he hurts him, I'll scoop him back up quick," he assured him.

Although he was scowling, Batman nodded his agreement. "You do that," he warned the clone, "because a muff isn't out of the question."

Conner blinked but Robin laughed and then broke into more coughing. When he caught his breath, he smiled. "He's kidding, Conner," Robin said as he held out his arms with a slight grimace.

Conner leaned in to hand the fox to the younger boy and whispered. "How can you tell?"

Robin smiled at his friend. "Because if Batman was really worried, he would never have agreed at all."

Much to everyone's surprise, Cecil didn't jump around in Robin's arms, only squirmed a bit in order to be close enough to lick at the boy's chin. After a minute or two of that, the fox settled down and curled up into a ball on Rob's chest. Batman stepped forward, holding out a hand.

"Is that too much for you?" he asked.

Although Robin panted a little at the extra weight on his chest, he wrapped his arms protectively around the Cecil's body. "Leave him! I'm fine," he assured the Bat quickly. "I'll move him when it becomes too much."

Roy's voice broke in. "That's the same position the fox was in when I found the two of them at the cabin. Rob was half frozen and Cecil was curled up on his chest just like that. It was like he was trying to keep Rob warm."

Ramón nodded, beaming. "Aye, he learnt that from me when I first rescued him nigh on two years ago as a kit. I used to hold him on my chest to help keep him warm and make him feel safe. If ever I catch a cold or whatnot, Cecil will crawl up on my chest as if he's trying to return the favor."

Wally stepped close on the other side of the bed and reached down to scratch the fox between the ears. He jerked his fingers back when Cecil nipped the end of his gloves and squawked at him.

"Yeow! What's up with that? I thought he was friendly," Wally yelped in surprise while the irate little fox chittered angrily at him.

"Did he get you?" Ramón asked, curiously. "He can be quite protective of those he adopts."

Wally was frowning at the tiny hole in the tip of his glove's index finger. "No," he admitted ruefully. "He only caught the edge of the glove."

Ramón laughed then. "He must like you then. He doesn't miss if he's determined to get you."

Wally stared at the fox as Robin worked to calm him down. "Uh, yeah, that's good to know. I'll think I'll sit over here for a while," he muttered, moving to an unoccupied chair.

Artemis looked around with a frown. "Someone's missing from this reunion," she declared. "Has anyone thought to contact Kaldur? What's happening in Atlantis?"

M'gann's eyes widened. "Kaldur! I forgot," she exclaimed. "He was on that mission in Atlantis with Aquaman when I first tried to contact him. Then everything started happening at once and . . . I-I forgot! I'll be right back!"

Suddenly her eyes glowed bright green and she flew out of the room. On her way, everyone assumed to contact the last team member who, as far as anyone knew, had no idea what had occurred in his absence.

Ramón gazed after her in wonder. "That's just plum amazing," he murmured. "I want a chance to chat her up before y'all send me back home."

Shaking his head, the biologist made his way back over to greet the youngest boy now that he was awake.

"You, young'un, are enough to turn a man's hair gray," he accused. "Is that why that Bat-fellow wears a cowl? To hide his snow-white hair?"

Robin laughed and coughed again but it sounded so much better than it had from even just earlier that morning. Cecil hopped onto the bed and snuggled under the covers beside the boy.

"I'm sorry," Robin apologized. "I was worried that Conner wouldn't make it. I couldn't stand to watch him die when I could be doing something to save him." His smile slid away and he looked down at his lap. "Instead, I couldn't help him and nearly got Roy and myself killed in the meantime."

Ramón laid a hand carefully on the boy's hand. "I can't speak for no one else here but I understood you did what you felt you had to do. And I have to admit, when I saw the mess you left on top of the mountain and that big cat, I thought you both were done for. That you two managed to live through all of that is nothing short of a miracle. Call me impressed."

"And don't be taking credit for my injuries, short-stuff," Roy called from his bed across the aisle. "I have a lot more experience than you do in the wilderness and even I was taken by surprise by that cougar. I should have been more aware of my surroundings." The archer sighed. "If anything, _you_ saved _my_ life out there."

"But I went for nothing," Robin exclaimed. "Conner survived even without the antibiotics. He was rescued before I could have made it back, even if we hadn't run into the mountain lion. Had I stayed, everyone would have been better off."

"But you didn't know that at the time, did you?" Batman asked him. "You thought only you and Conner remained and hadn't any idea when rescue would be coming. It is always easier to see what the best decisions would have been _after_ the mission is over."

Robin looked up at his father. His mask saved him the embarrassment of his friends seeing his eyes watering behind the lenses and the material soaked up the moisture before it could escape. He swallowed his emotions as best he could.

"So . . . You're not mad at me?" he asked Batman softly, thankful his voice didn't crack.

"No. I was worried about you but I'm not mad at you," Batman told him. "I, too, understand why you did what you did. You were the leader of the mission. You didn't want to be the only one to survive it. I only wish we could have gotten to you sooner, so that the trip to the cabin wouldn't have been necessary."

Robin's lips lifted into relieved smile. Batman and Roy forgave him. "You did okay riding in at the last minute but yeah . . . Next time, feel free to swoop in a little sooner."

Wally snorted. "Yeah, cause fighting Mother Nature can be a real bitch."

"Kid!" Canary yelled. "Language!"

Wally winced and held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, sorry . . . But you have to admit that I'm right. She is!"

Dinah glared but Ollie, Roy, and Ramón laughed.

"Don't go getting worked up, little lady," Ramón chuckled. "He's got a point. Not a lot any of you can do when Mother Nature has a bee up her bonnet."

* * *

 **REACTIONS?**

 **So sorry this has taken so long to get posted. I also apologize for not getting Kaldur more than a mention in this one. I'll have to see that he gets more love in the next YJ story I do.**

 **I hope you all had a Happy Halloween! My 15 yr. old daughter dressed up Steampunk style, as did my German Shepherd. I even had my own Steampunk mask. LOL!**

 **Please REVIEW and, for fun, include what your costume was at the end of it if you dressed up for it. Even if you don't normally review – feel free to just post what your costume was for the rest of us. ;D**


	33. Epilogue

**We come back to the story 5 months later. It is April and Spring, and most of the mountain is in beginning to sprout leaves and the early flowers are in bloom. Higher up, however, there is still snow and the cliff is riddled with several waterfalls from the snow melt.**

 **Warning: Some Language . . . (Forgive any typos I might have missed)**

* * *

Robin sat out on the porch and watched the night sky. You couldn't see the stars in Gotham City, the light pollution as well as the pollution-pollution blocked all but the brightest lights in the nighttime sky. In Gotham City, that would be the moon and that pretty much was it. The manor was better but, even then, Gotham City was too close and only the brightest stars were available on a clear night. He had almost forgotten the beauty of Milky Way.

He knew there were other planets out there circling some of those stars. He knew there were aliens that lived on some of them. Heck, he was friends with one of them and with the clone of another. Batman had even gone to a few of those planets on occasion. Robin hated those times when Bruce was gone so completely, that if an emergency came up and he needed him, it would take a month or more before he could get back, even with the help of alien technology that could get him from place to place faster by warping space or using shortcuts through wormholes. And if Batman needed him . . .? Robin hadn't had the means to follow on his own.

But for all that he hated when Batman traveled to those distant planets, Robin couldn't help but wish that, one day, he too would get to travel to the stars.

The door creaked behind him, alerting the boy that he was about to have company. He was good with that. He had had enough time by himself, too much, really . . . Healing had taken quite a while and then there had been all of the physical and occupational therapy he had to contend with. Maybe not as much as Roy, with the nerve damage _he_ had received, but it had been a lot all the same. But when he stopped to consider what _could_ have happened . . .

It was ironic, really, that he lived in a crime-ridden city with some of the worst, most demented baddies out there and Robin had almost bitten it way out here in the wilderness. All of them that had been on that train when the car had derailed had nearly died at some point, a couple of them more than once. Okay, that had been him that had attempted to check out more than once but all four of them had faced death during those few days and somehow managed to walk away from it.

Someone sat down on the step beside him. Robin didn't have to look to know that it was Conner. They had grown a lot closer since 'The Mission' despite their separate, respective recuperating times. He and Conner had managed to talk almost every day since. They were easily as good of friends now as he and Wally and, in some ways, better.

"It's deceptive, isn't it?' Robin said out loud after several long minutes.

"What is?" Conner asked, although Rob knew he understood exactly what he was talking about.

"How peaceful it is out here," Robin answered. "You'd never know just sitting here that you had practically kicked it just a few miles from here in the valley."

"Or that you nearly drowned in a frozen river or almost fell to your death while trying to avoid getting eaten by a cougar?" Conner added.

Robin winced. "Gee, thanks for pointing that out, Conner. I'll sleep better now," he said sarcastically.

Conner leaned over and bumped the younger boy's shoulder. "You brought it up first."

He had. Robin glanced over at the Kryptonian/human hybrid and grinned.

"We are so damned lucky, it's not even funny."

Conner smiled. He was doing that more often and more easily now. "If it isn't funny then why are you grinning like an idiot?"

"Just thinking of how weird it is that, after almost dying here, we come back the very first chance we get," Rob shook his head. "Our first weekend together as a team with no mission and what do we do?"

"Wally and M'gann had voted to go to the beach. So, did Kaldur, come to think of it," Conner murmured.

It was spring break and the beaches had been full of beautiful girls and beach volleyball. Made perfect sense that Walls had wanted to hang out there. But then Roy had shown up, the first time they had seen him since they had been rescued, and he had added his vote to Artemis, Conner's and his, and broken the tie. The four of them had wanted to return to the mountain again to see Ramón and Cecil.

Only Wally had seemed to mind. M'gann had been charmed by the crusty, old, mountain man and his pet fox, and Kaldur had never had the opportunity to meet them, although he had heard the stories several times. But Wally had come close to losing four of his friends on this mountain and he couldn't understand why anyone would want to relive that experience.

Nobody actually wanted to relive it. That's not why they wanted to come. The four of them just wanted to see the beauty this place without the full temper of Mother Nature bearing down on them. They wanted to see their new friend again and thank him for saving their lives, and to look the mountain in the proverbial eye and remind it that it hadn't won. In the end, _they_ had and that counted for something, even if it had only happened because Batman and the Justice League had stepped in to rescue them.

They had survived. Life was good.

"Do you wish now that we had gone to the beach?" Robin asked him.

Conner stared up at the stars rather than look at him. "A little," he admitted. "I mean, I'm really glad we came back. Seeing Ramón and Cecil again was great but . . . I don't . . ." he sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. "I don't tell people this, especially not Superman . . . um, Clark, I mean."

Robin knew Conner still felt a little weird about calling Superman by his given name.

"What is it?" Robin prodded quietly.

"I . . . uh, I still get cold sometimes." Conner shivered then, almost as if talking about it brought it on.

"Really?" Robin glanced over at him, concerned. "The laser is still affecting you? Do you still have the scar or did that finally go away?"

"Listen, Rob, you can't tell," Conner insisted. "Promise me. You won't tell anyone. Not Batman and definitely not Wally. There's no way he'd keep his mouth shut."

"If something is wrong, though . . ." Robin argued but stopped when Conner stood up abruptly. "Conner, wait! Okay . . . I'm sorry. I promise . . . I won't tell anyone." When Conner continued to stand there, Robin prodded him. "Sit down. Please?"

Another moment passed, when Robin thought he had ruined that special trust they now shared, before Conner sat back down on the step.

"I lied . . ."

Robin blinked. "When? About what?"

"Just now," Conner admitted reluctantly. "It's not just occasionally. I'm cold all the time now. It's like the cold has sunk into my bones. It just doesn't go away."

"And you're cold right now?"

It _was_ pretty cold out tonight. Not frigid like it had been when they were stuck here during the blizzard but the temperatures required a coat and Robin could see his breath when he talked. Conner was out in long sleeves and a light jacket. The jacket was new . . . Rob might've believed he wore it for Ramón but the biologist was already aware that Conner wasn't strictly human.

Conner nodded and another shiver shook his heavy frame. Robin scooted closer, leaning against his friend in an effort to share a bit of his heat. Conner smiled at him and put an arm around him. Robin didn't know how much good he was actually doing, all considering, but if anyone walked out here, they'd believe it was Conner who was keeping Robin warm rather than the other way around.

It might have been amusing but for the fact that his friend was suffering in silence. _That_ wasn't funny at all.

"What about the scar? Is it still there?" Robin asked again.

"It's faded," Conner told him. "But you can still see it. You can feel it, too, if your hand rubs over it. The mark where the laser had hit me is still there, too. It kind of resembles a birth mark now."

Robin leaned back. "Let me see."

Conner sighed and tugged up the corner of his shirt. The mark was barely noticeable even in the bright starlight. Rob figured it was only a shade darker than Conner's natural skin tone. He reached out to run his fingers across it but it was smooth. Conner pulled his shirt back down and huddled under his jacket. Robin leaned into him again.

"Does M'gann know?" The two of them were still dating. If anyone would notice, it would be her.

"She knows," he snorted. "It's impossible to hide anything from M'gann for very long."

"What's she say?"

Conner shrugged. "She's worried, especially about the cold, but she keeps quiet. She doesn't like it, though. She wants me to tell Superman."

"Yeah, well, I sort of agree with her," Robin frowned at him. "Is this helping at all?" he asked, referring to their sharing heat.

Conner laughed. "A little. Getting uncomfortable?"

Robin snorted. "Sorry but you're not exactly my type, you know?"

Conner smirked. "And what type is that? Zatanna?"

Robin blushed hard enough it was noticeable in the starlight. "No," he denied forcefully. "I don't think I have a type yet."

Conner grinned. "Yes, you do. Ever since New Year's when she kissed you, your type has been dark-haired girls who like to talk backwards."

"Shut up," Robin groused as he shrugged off Conner's arm and returned to his previous spot. He was smiling, though. "She's way out of my league, and she's older than me."

"Not by that much. You just had your fourteenth birthday last month."

Robin rolled his eyes. "And she's just about to have hers next month. She'll be fifteen then."

Now Conner rolled his eyes. "So? She likes you. You definitely like her . . ."

"No, I don't," Robin denied automatically.

The older boy laughed again. "Who's lying now?"

Robin hung his head in defeat but he was smiling. "Yeah, okay. I admit it . . ."

Conner gave him a light shove and the smaller boy was nearly unseated.

"You know," Conner told him, "if we've learned nothing else from our time here, it's that time is fleeting and life is short, especially in this line of work. You have to live life and take every opportunity that it presents to you. You don't want your last breath to be one of regret."

Robin gaped at him. "That's . . . kind of depressing."

The other boy shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn't meant to be. It was supposed to be uplifting and, I don't know . . . freeing?"

"I never knew you to be philosophical before," Rob narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're not a clone of a clone?"

Conner grinned. "M'gann's got me watching reruns of Dr. Phil."

They both started laughing.

* * *

"What's all that ruckus out here?" Ramón asked as he exited the cabin. "You're going to wake up your friends and then no one will be getting any sleep."

Robin smiled up into the shaggy face of their friend. "I'm sorry if we woke you," he said.

"Nah, you didn't wake me," Ramón scoffed. "Cecil here did that for you."

The little white fox scrambled off of Ramón's shoulder and leapt toward Robin. Had the boy's reflexes been any slower, he wouldn't have been able to catch him in mid-air. Cecil chittered and squawked at him tumbling around in his lap before demanding his scratch. Robin had been trained well and immediately obliged him. After a few minutes, the fox scrambled up and leapt over into Conner's lap next.

Ramón leaned against the post and smiled down at the boys making much ado over the excitable animal.

"Never seen him take to folks like he has to you two," he commented casually. "He was downright mopey after we got home for weeks."

Robin looked pointedly out at the wilderness landscape. "You say that like this place is teaming with visitors. Conner and I are probably the only people he's ever been around besides you."

Ramón scoffed. "He's met folks before. Always been shy, distrusting of 'em. He's never had call to get to know 'em, though, like he had with you two."

Conner smiled at the fox's antics, laughing when the small animal scurried over his shoulder, behind his neck, and down the other side. "You hadn't anyone get trapped in you shack for a week by a blizzard before, you mean. Rob and I are the first?"

Ramón chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's so. You two are the first to enjoy the full hospitality of the Hotel Dupree Grande, with all her fine amenities." He said as Cecil jumped down from Conner's lap and ran out into the field in front of the cabin.

"And we appreciated all of them," Robin said as he climbed to his feet. The younger boy walked over and wrapped his arms around the crusty mountaineer. "You saved our lives and risked your own while doing so. We'll never forget that."

"Aw, here now." Ramón grumbled gruffly, kneeling down to return the hug. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me."

Conner hesitated a moment or two before he joined the pair. "Thank you," he murmured into the furry jacket, feeling a little awkward.

Ramón shoved them away, affectionately. "Go on with you. It's enough to make an old man all weepy-eyed."

"We're going to be headed home tomorrow," Robin reminded him. "You've been a pretty understanding host considering you've had six teenagers dumped in your lap over the weekend. We've probably eaten you out of house and home."

"Nonsense. It was a pleasure," Ramón replied, gruffly. "You all reminded me of what I've been missing out here."

Conner glanced around, his night vision making it possible to see the surrounding countryside with ease. Snow on the mountain peaks still, even some on this level in the places shielded from the sunlight. But the forest was no longer the winter wonderland it once was. Spring green was vibrant in the fields and early season blooms were bright patches of color here and there. The distant roar of a waterfall where the Spring melt rushed to join the river in the valley below . . .

"I don't think you are missing much," Conner said. "It's beautiful and really peaceful."

Ramón laughed. "Have I made a country boy out of you yet?"

Conner smiled. "Well, maybe not yet but I've learned to appreciate the beauty as well as the danger mountain offers."

They were interrupted by howling. Ramón's wolves sounded close, really close. Suddenly, Cecil burst out of the tree line beyond, a piece of white on the dark gray background of the starlit field. He ran in a streak towards the safety of Ramón and the cabin. Dark, inky shadows followed in his wake, easing out into the open. Ramón bent a knee as the fox leapt into his arms.

"What is it?" Robin asked warily. He stepped back up onto the porch. He still wore the scars from the cougar attack and had no desire to add to them.

"My wolf pack," Ramón wondered aloud as the small fox forewent his usual spot around the man's neck in favor of burrowing under his coat. "They've never ventured this close before. Usually that mountain lion's scat kept them at bay. That was the reason for the shack, you know, to enable me to stay an extended length deep in their territory."

Robin glanced at the trapper. "The same mountain lion that tried to eat me and Roy?"

"He's no longer here," Ramón reassured him. "Attacking humans isn't taken lightly. I didn't want to have to kill it, so I trapped him and had the rangers transport him several hundred miles from here in territory far from any beaten path."

A shape far larger than any of the timber wolves around it broke away from the group and padded forward. Recognizing it, Conner walked out to meet him.

"Wolf," he chided. "You shouldn't have brought them this close to the cabin. One of your new friends might decide to eat Cecil."

Ramón moved closer. He was still amazed at the size of Conner's wolf pet. The fact that the wolf also appeared to understand human speech was mind-boggling. He hadn't had much chance to study the anomalous beast as it had loped off into the surrounding woods as soon as the teens had exited their ship. It had returned only briefly once over the course of the long weekend.

"Here's someone I'd love to get to know better," Ramón said as he approached cautiously. "What accounts for his size and intelligence?"

Conner scratched at Wolf's favorite spots as he answered. "He was experimented on against his will. Kept as a test animal and then as a slave to the will of evil men."

Ramón frowned. "That's a dad-burned shame, that is. It's why I prefer to work in the wild rather than work out of a university laboratory. How is it he tolerates humans after that?"

Robin eased off of the porch but didn't stray far. "Conner saved him from the men who had held him captive. He destroyed the collar that controlled him."

"He was in the wrong environment anyway. We found him in a jungle. Couldn't have been comfortable for him," Conner explained. "After we destroyed the laboratory, he wanted to come back with us."

"He's been with Conner ever since," Robin finished.

"At least he hasn't indicated he was unhappy," Conner shrugged. "But he's never really had the opportunity to find a real home before." He tipped his head and caught Wolf's eye. "Do you like it here? We're going to be leaving in a few hours to go home. Do you want to come back with us or do you want to stay here, with this pack?"

Wolf looked back at the animals he had been running with over the weekend and then back to Conner, and whined.

"I'll understand if you want to be with your own kind," he said, quietly. It would hurt but he wouldn't take Wolf away from the pack if he considered them his family now.

Wolf licked Conner's face and turned around to somehow communicate silently with the pack. Ramón recognized a bit of the body language used but he suspected that a lot more was going on behind those golden eyes than was knowable. After a moment, the other wolves turned and loped back into the woods. Wolf nodded at Conner and followed the others back into what was left of the night.

Robin walked out to stand beside his friend. "What did that mean? Is he coming back with us or is he going to stay?"

Conner shrugged. "I'm not sure if that was a goodbye or he was saying he'd be back."

"A big boy like that probably eats a lot," Ramón murmured. His eyes narrowed in concentration. "If he were any normal wolf, I might be concerned about whether the local environment could support his addition to the local pack."

"Oh, I didn't think about that," Conner said worriedly. "Should I have discouraged him about staying?"

Ramón shook his head. "I weaned the pack last year. Had two taken to a new area to start up a new pack. There's no doubt your wolf would be the alpha of this pack. I doubt the current alpha would even challenge him for it. Do you think your animal could understand something as complex as population control and environmental impact?"

"He could understand it in simplistic terms to a degree." Conner said as he thought about it. "He's far above the average animal but he's still not quite human smart." He smiled sadly. "Not yet, anyway."

"I don't know about that," Robin inserted with a grin. "He's managed to manipulate everyone at the mountain into giving him extra treats and belly rubs on demand."

"If he comes back before we leave, I'll try to explain it to him," Conner told the mountain man. "I can't guarantee anything, however."

"We'll deal with it when the time comes, then," Ramón said. "Now, are you boys planning to get any sleep tonight or will you be watching the sun come up?"

"I suppose we better try or we'll be worthless tomorrow," Robin agreed.

"You mean, today." Conner bumped his shoulder again, causing Robin to stumble. The smaller boy sent him a warning glare.

"Did you two enjoy the mountain this time around?" Ramón asked as Cecil, sensing it was safe now, made his way up to his favorite spot. The biologist rubbed the fox's head in reassurance.

Here Robin grinned. He turned to talk as he walked backwards. "It was a blast, Ramón. We were able to go skiing, climbing, hiking, and fishing, although Kaldur beat everyone in that."

Conner snorted. "Until he realized we were going to be eating them and sent all of his back into the stream."

Ramón shook his head in awe. "Imagine being able to call the fish and have them jump out onto the shore like that. But he still ate with us that evening. You don't think we offended him, do you?"

Robin waved the concern away. "He had been just showing off for us. It was a game until then for him but he understands that fish is food for us. He says they eat fish in Atlantis as well but supplement it by farming like we do here. He told me there were some Atlantians that were even vegetarians, although he's not one of them."

Conner chuckled. "Wally's face when you told him we were eating barbequed beaver and beaver-tail soup . . ."

"You should have seen Batman and Agent A's face when I asked for beaver for dinner one time," Rob laughed. "I still need the recipe to take back with me."

"Is your Agent A going to try it?" Ramón asked, laughing along with them.

"Nah," Rob shook his head. "They don't carry beaver in the meat section at our local grocery."

Ramón rubbed a playful hand over the smaller boy's hair. "If you like, I can send you back with a beaver. I'll even do you the favor by skinning him for you."

Robin's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Could you?"

"Of course," he agreed, readily. Ramón was always ready for a prank, and it amused him to imagine the faceless Agent A requesting more of the mountain delicacy from the local butcher.

The trio grew quieter as they entered the cabin so as to not disturb the others. They moved carefully back to their own spots near the fire, stepping over the scattered bodies of their sleeping friends. Robin paused by the rocking chair in the corner to snatch another blanket that had been draped there. As Conner settled down, Rob tossed the extra cover over him.

"So you won't get cold," he whispered.

Conner smiled in thanks. Despite the cold of the higher elevation, he had enjoyed his stay and would be a little sad to go back. His mind turned to Wolf and he wondered if he had seen the last of his friend. He would deal with it, though, because all that mattered was that his friend was happy.

Sleep was finally creeping up on him when the warmth of a furry body nuzzled his chin and then attempted to slither under his covers. Conner lifted the blankets to grant Cecil entry. The fox usually preferred to bed down with Robin but must have felt his sadness and had come to console him. Comforted, Conner drifted off to the rhythm of the Cecil's heartbeat.

* * *

Conner and Kid Flash were carrying everyone's bags into the Bioship as the rest of the team said their goodbyes.

"Thank you so much for letting us come and stay with you. Your mountain is so beautiful now that Spring is finally here," M'gann said to their host.

"Likely a big change to what you're used to, eh?" Ramón asked her.

"From Mars? Most definitely. Our mountains are nothing like they are here," she assured him.

"That must be something to see, though," he said. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Sometimes," she admitted shyly. "The deep reds and purples of the Martian sunset are much different than those you see on earth."

M'gann moved into the ship to help make room to the baggage as Kaldur walked over to shake the older man's hand. "This was indeed a most pleasant trip. I greatly enjoyed the activities and the company very much."

"You should see it in summer," Ramón told him. "There is a hidden pool with crystal clear waters that does a body good after a hard day's hike through these parts."

Kaldur's eyes lit up. "If that is an invitation . . ."

"Mi casa es tu casa," Ramón laughed. "You young folks don't need to wait for an invitation to visit. Cecil certainly enjoyed the company."

At the mention of his name, Cecil broke away from where he was playing with the pinecones that Robin and Artemis had been tossing for him. As he ran over, Ramón obligingly bent and picked him up. The little fox squawked at the Atlantian from his new perch, making Kaldur laugh. No one could resist the small animal's charm.

"You should be careful, old man," Roy said as he came up and threw an arm around Kaldur's shoulders. "We might take you up on that. Another weekend or two of this madhouse and you'll be reminded of why you moved away from civilization in the first place."

Kaldur raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?" he asked for Ramón.

Roy looked surprised as if the answer was obvious. He spread an arm out as if to encompass the world in general as he replied with annoying ease. "People are annoying." He glanced over at Wally chatting with Artemis. "And some of those people more than others."

Robin laughed. "You talk a big game, Roy, but we all know that you love us."

"Where'd you come up with that crazy idea, runt?"

"You chose to come with us," Robin replied. "You sought us out and joined us for the weekend when you didn't have to." He ducked under Roy's playful grab at him. "Admit it! You love us," he flipped out of the archer's reach and ran when Roy made as if to chase him.

"It has been pleasant to have a chance to simply relax and enjoy one another's friendship without the responsibilities that come with our positions," Kaldur said softly. "The remoteness of your cabin ensures us of downtime without risk of interruption."

"You're all so dad-blamed young," Ramón said as he shook his head. "Too young to have such heavy burdens placed upon your shoulders like this."

Kaldur met the biologist's eyes. "It has been our choice," he explained. "None of us were coerced into becoming heroes and protectors of humanity. Every one of us made this decision for ourselves and, in many cases, fought hard for the right."

They both glanced at Robin, clearly the youngest of their team as he used Conner as a barrier between him and Roy. "Robin, for all that he is the youngest among us, was the first of us to take up the calling. He paved the way for the rest of us to begin training with our mentors and use our gifts and talents as a means to help others. He proved to the League and to society that youth does not mean incapable or irresponsible." Kaldur shared with him.

"I'll admit that the world has changed a lot since I retreated up here," Ramón snorted. "In my day, children were protected and cherished, not thrown into danger with the worst of humanity."

"Despite what it must seem like to you, I believe our mentors care deeply for each of us," Kaldur told him.

Ramón grunted and nodded, if somewhat reluctantly. "I saw a bit of that myself when your League swooped in to pull these young'uns' butts out of the fire." He grinned suddenly and bumped Kaldur's shoulder, startling the youth. "I was as surprised as two-peckered horny toad when they came busting through my door in those tights and masks and such."

If Kaldur was startled, it was no more than was Conner when he overheard the comment. He turned to Robin to assuage his curiosity.

"What's a pecker?" he asked.

Roy choked as Robin shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure."

"Ah, maybe I can clear this up." The archer leaned in and lowered his voice as he whispered to the other two boys.

Conner blinked. "Toads have _two_ of those?"

"I didn't know that," Robin said, frowning.

Roy coughed into his hand. "Yeah, well, they're a special breed. There's only a few of them out there."

Robin looked skeptical. "Are you messing with us?"

Roy gave his most innocent look and waved an arm in Ramón's direction. "Your biologist said so."

Robin glanced over at the mountain man. "Really?"

Ramón grinned and winked. "Those right there are some mighty fine eatin', boys. You come back for a visit this summer and we'll catch us some and I'll fry a batch of 'em up for you."

Kaldur frowned in confusion. "I don't believe I've ever heard of this species before. They are a subspecies of the horned toad, you say?"

"What subspecies is that?" Artemis asked as she and Wally came out of the cabin.

Roy laughed. "Nothing important. I'll tell you both about it later, after we get back to our own mountain."

M'gann stepped into the door of the Bioship. "The ship is ready to go. Is that everything? We're not leaving anything behind, are we?"

"No, beautiful," Wally smiled. "Artie and I double-checked the cabin. We're good to go."

Artemis looked around. They were missing something . . . "Wait! Where's Wolf? Is he already on board?"

"No," the Martian responded. She looked out over the field but didn't see the animal. "Conner? Have you seen him?"

Conner's face fell slightly. "Late last night. He was with Ramón's wolf pack. I-I think he prefers it here, with his own kind, I mean," he told them. "We'll go on without him if he doesn't show up."

The shock on the faces of the boy's friends spoke well of the relationship between Conner and the giant wolf. Ramón hated to see the pair broken up, he could see that Conner loved the beast, but an animal that large and intelligent shouldn't be forced to live where he was unhappy.

"I'll keep an eye out on him, like I do all my wolves, young'un," Ramón rested a hand on his shoulder. "You can come and see him anytime you get the urge. You're always welcome."

"I . . . uh, I appreciate that, Ramón," Conner said. It was obvious that leaving his pet behind was distressing to him, however.

The woodsman smiled, a flash of straight, white teeth amidst the straggly, salt and pepper beard. "Don't you mean 'Old Oily'?"

Shock and embarrassment colored Robin and Conner's faces.

"How did you . . .?" The clone gaped.

"We're sorry, Ramón, if we hurt your feelings," Robin said quickly. "It wasn't intentional."

"I came up with that before I knew what to call you," Conner admitted. "I never meant it in a mean way, though. Honest."

Ramón laughed, a deep belly laugh that had the two boys exchanging hopeful glances. "Land's sakes! I've heard far worse said about me than that," he grinned. "And it ain't as though it weren't the truth. Baths around here in the winter are scarce. Too hard to break the ice and haul it inside, plus the time it takes to heat it. I sure ain't fond of no ice baths. This here ain't no polar bear club, I can tell you that."

Robin slumped in relief. "Thank you. We're really sorry," he repeated.

But the backwoods biologist just waved the apology away. "I was just teasing you, young'un. Ain't you never heard tell of the old saying 'sticks and stones will break your bones but words can never harm me?"

"But that's not true," Artemis corrected him. "Words _can_ hurt."

He hummed a bit. "That, Missy, is only if you let them. You don't have let them, hear me?"

She smiled and gave him a hug. "We're going to miss you and all your crazy country sayings," she said and then whispered, " _I'm_ going to miss you."

Ramón chuckled a bit; the sound rumbled beneath her ear, tickling. "Go on with you, now. I won't tell a soul," he winked at her. "Our secret."

As Artemis moved up into the Bioship, Roy stepped over and shook the man's hand. "You saved us. That means something to me. If you ever need me, or any of us, you just ask."

"And you keep a look out over your friends there. Make sure they don't go getting lost in the wilderness again without you," he replied.

Roy smiled and nodded. "Deal."

Wally shuffled over next. "I voted to go to the beach," he admitted with a smirk. "I didn't think I ever wanted to see this place again . . . But I'm glad we came. It really is beautiful up here."

Ramón grinned and slapped the speedster on the back. "Is that _all_ you liked about the place?"

Wally smirked. "Okay, the beaver wasn't bad. Neither was that bacon we had this morning. Where'd you get bacon at way up here?"

"That, my boy, was top of the line opossum bacon you enjoyed with your quail eggs," Ramón announced. "The birds are laying down in the valley already. I had just stocked up the day before y'all arrived so they were still nice and fresh."

Wally paled and turned a little green. "Th-That was . . . opossum? Oh, my God!" He spun around and glared at Robin and Conner. "Did you two know about this and didn't tell me?"

Both were looking back, wide-eyed. "N-No," Robin denied. "We only knew about the beaver."

"Oh, the opossums wouldn't go out during a blizzard. They'd hole up until the storm was over, else stay in their dens until hunger forced them out," Ramón told them jovially. "They're way too lean during the cold months. Nah, Spring's the earliest time of the year to getcha a nice, fat opossum."

Ramón grinned at them, chuckling and shaking his head. "City folks . . ." He looked up at M'gann and waved her down. "C'mon down here and say goodbye to me proper-like, little green."

M'gann floated down from the ship's entrance because she knew how much the biologist enjoyed it. She landed gracefully in front of him.

"Danged if that ain't something," he murmured. It continued to amaze him every time he watched her. "I wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed your baking."

Her eyes sparkled. "Really? I know the cookies were a little extra crispy around the edges . . . I wasn't used to cooking in a wood-burning stove."

"Those cookies were just perfect," he assured her. "I haven't had cookies in a coon's age. They were a welcome change. I hafta say that your biscuits came out nicely, though."

She blushed a little. "Well, that was because you helped. I've never made biscuits before this weekend."

"Well, you're an expert at it already," Ramón declared. "Little goat's milk butter and some honey . . . You just can't get more down home than that."

"That was goat's milk butter? Does that mean that the milk we drank was goat's milk, too?" Wally asked from the ship.

Ramón laughed. "Did you see any cows up 'round here?"

"No cows," Conner confirmed, "but I noticed there's a couple of goats around back by that outbuilding."

Kaldur patted Wally's shoulder and pulled him into the Bioship. "It was good milk and I could not tell the difference in the butter."

"But it was goat's milk and opossum . . ." Wally could still be heard whining.

"Yes, and beaver as well," Kaldur commiserated. "You ate four helpings."

"Don't remind me," the speedster groaned.

M'gann held Ramón's hand and touched his mind. _I am thankful that you were there to save my friends and I am honored to be considered one of yours_.

Ramón startled a moment. Then he relaxed and gave it a try himself. _Can you hear me_?

 _I can_ , she thought at him. _Most Martians prefer to communicate in this fashion. I've been told it is rude amongst earthlings but you seemed so sincere in wanting to learn about my kind that I wanted to tell you thank you in the Martian way_. She bit her lip nervously. "Are you offended?"

"Land's sakes, no, child," he assured her. "That there is what folks call telepathy, correct?"

M'gann smiled. "It is. I use it with the others only when we go on missions together. It is a more efficient and stealthy means of communication.

 _I look forward to learning more about it, then_ , he thought at her. _And more about Martians in general when you come back for a visit_.

 _You are a natural at this_ , M'gann told him. _Perhaps you have some latent talent in this area. Another visit sounds pleasant. Take care of yourself, Ramón, and of Cecil, too_.

Ramón grinned. "I will do surely that, little green. Now go on with you."

He set Cecil down as he turned to say his goodbyes to his boys, as he was coming to think on them. "Stay away from blizzard and frozen rivers as I won't be there to save your skins next time."

"We're going to miss you, Ramón," Robin admitted freely. He waited only until the big man bent a knee to throw his arms around his neck.

The woodsman hugged the boy back. "It will be too quiet now here 'bouts without you two getting into heaps of trouble," he said gruffly.

Cecil pawed at Robin's leg, squirming excitedly in the boy's arms when he picked him up. "I think I may miss you most of all," he told the little fox.

Cecil chittered at him and crawled up onto Robin's shoulder and leapt toward Conner. The older boy caught him deftly and scratched the animal in his favorite places.

"Don't you worry about Wolf," Conner told the fox. "I told him you were a friend but I wouldn't go turning my back on the others."

Cecil leapt back into Ramon's arms and quickly scampered up to his usual spot around the older man's neck.

"I keep an eye out of your wolf friend for you," Ramón promised again. He took Conner's hand that the clone held out but instead of shaking it, the biologist yanked the boy into his arms, giving him a bear hug and slapping him on the back. "But this just means that you'll have to come out often to see him, you understand."

"I'll do that," Conner told him. "Thank you . . . for everything."

The two boys were just turning to board the bioship when a bark had them both turning around. The great, white wolf stepped out of the trees followed by his new pack. Conner hesitated only a moment before walking out to meet him.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Conner asked him and he rubbed the animal's scruff.

Wolf rubbed his head against Conner's chest and then padded off towards the bioship. He paused with one paw on the ramp and looked back at him. Conner blinked and glanced behind him at the wolf pack only to see the others slinking back into the shadows of the trees once more.

He spun around and grinned. "You're not staying?"

Wolf shook vigorously, whether to fluff his coat or to tell Conner 'no' didn't matter as the wolf turned and entered the ship without looking back. Robin grinned at Conner, happy that the clone wouldn't lose his friend.

"I guess he's coming with us after all," Conner said with a broad smile.

He bounded over back to the ship and entered behind the younger boy. They waved as the door lifted and melded back into the ship seamlessly. Seconds later the Bioship lifted into the air, hovered a moment and then shot off at a speed that left the tops of the surrounding pines swaying.

Ramón waved until the red ship disappeared over the peaks. He ruffled the top of Cecil's head fondly and headed back towards the cabin. Conner and Kaldur had left him enough wood to last through the following winter. The team had left him with a store of canned and dry goods they had brought with them as a gift.

The wind whistled through the treetops. It was normally a sound he enjoyed but, today, the wind sounded a bit forlorn and reminded Ramón of how isolated he was up here. It had been his choice, making the move up here and he never regretted it but maybe it was time to journey into town for a few supplies. He thought that, maybe this time, he would stay for a bit. The mountain could take care of itself for a few weeks on its own.

"How'd you like to take a hike with me, Cecil?" he said as he stomped inside the cabin. "You've never met Dale and his wife, have you? They own a general store down in the valley over yonder. Maybe we can get you a real toy to play with instead of them there pinecones," he declared cheerfully as he slammed the door behind him. "And Betty, at the diner in town, makes the world's best flapjacks! You haven't lived until you try a flapjack with some homegrown maple syrup . . ."

He set the fox down as he dug out his backpack. "We should stock up on the maple syrup, too, while we're down there. What do you say? Young Wally didn't seem too happy knowing he had scarfed down a pound or two of opossum bacon. Maybe the next time they visit, we can have us some flapjacks!"

Cecil chittered happily. He enjoyed hikes. He bounded around the cabin gleefully as Ramón set to packing the things he needed to make the hike into town. The older man thought that maybe he's even pick up a newspaper and see what sort of things were happening in the world that required the kind of folks that dressed up in capes and masks to go fixing 'em up.

Yes indeed, he'd been away for entirely too long.

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 **REACTIONS?**

 **Whew! This took a while to complete. I'd written this no less than four times. I needed a bit of a break to clear my head and come at this fresh. I apologize for the long wait. I'll admit, I was tempted a few times to just call it complete with Chapter 32, since everyone was safe, together, and on the mend but I had promised an epilogue. This is far more mellow than the story before it but hopefully not boring for all that no one is in the process of dying.**

 **I would really appreciate it if you could leave me a review, not only of the chapter, but also what you thought of the story in general. Honestly, it went on far longer than I expected. I had planned for this to end with 23 or 24 chapters, instead, we have 33. I hope the time you invested into the story was worth it. If you loved it, please consider reviewing and faving it. ;D**

 **Oh, for any who are interested. There are several deleted chapters from this story in _Collections 2: What The Hell Was I Thinking?_ that I wrote before I switched out Kaldur (who was in the original version) with Roy. You'd be surprised how it changes with just one character. I also tell you why I chose to delete the scene/chapter. And I just added the 1st version of the epilogue to the collection as well - It is the new entry for Chapter 24. **

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**If you haven't read _Jaborandi_ , you should take a look. It is a fast-paced story that I wrote for Black Friar's YJ writing contest when this one grew too big.**

 **I am currently writing something that is a bit different from my usual fare but with my trademark angsty, dark edge that you've probably come to expect. The chapters are long, so more bang for your buck here. The beginning might throw you a bit but don't let that stop you . . . It has a bit of a buildup but it is soooo worth the effort. It is filled with violence, danger unlike any I've presented you before, hurt/comfort, DaddyBats! and last but not least - lots of humor! The theme is a familiar one you've seen before but I've created an original and complex plot with twists and surprises for you. The story has gone EPIC! And it's called _"The End of Everything"._**


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